Who I Am
by Smile-I'mTheEndOfAllThatYouSee
Summary: <html><head></head>Mikey is captured by Agent Bishop and genetically mutated into a human. The problem? Mikey has zero memory of his past. How can he get home to a family that he's sure doesn't exist?</html>
1. Shot and Taken

**This is my first TMNT story so constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. I hope you like it. Disclaimer: I don't own _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles._**

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><p>"Wahoo! Bet you can't beat me, guys!" shouted Mikey. They were doing their nightly patrol, but since there was no crime, the four decided to have a little fun by having a little race. Mikey was winning by a lot as usual.<p>

"Next time, let's play something that Mikey doesn't have an advantage," moaned Raph, "like hide-and-seek."

"How can he go so fast without breaking a sweat," said Don. He was already panting and his legs began to ache.

"Come on, guys. Let's try to give Mikey a taste of his own medicine," encouraged Leo. Don and Raph silently nodded out of agreement, and with a burst of energy, all three of them raced to catch up to their youngest brother.

Mikey looked behind him. Surprisingly, Leo, Raph, and Don were catching up. "Oh, no, if they win, I'm stuck with all the chores for the night." Mikey instantly built up speed and ran even faster. Pretty soon, the finish line – a rooftop near the docks – came in sight. "Almost there."

Leo, Raph, and Don noticed that Mikey picked up pace so they gathered every last bit of energy they possessed and doubled their pace. Soon Leo was racing head of two of his younger brothers and getting closer to Mikey. Mikey noticed that Leo was nearly head-to-head with him so he began to taunt his older brother. "Come on, Leo; let's see if the youngest can beat the leader AGAIN!"

"With all that energy you're expending and still have enough to talk, you are sure to lose this time, Mikey," Leo taunted back.

"That's because I don't need to expend all my energy. With you four slowpokes, I can win this easily."

"Let's see about that, little brother." Soon both brothers were head-to-head with each other in an epic battle to finish first. It was pretty obvious that Raph and Don were going to lose, but Mikey and Leo weren't about to give up. Each summoned all their energy as their sights were fixed on that lone rooftop. For a short while, Leo was ahead of Mikey by a little bit, but at the last minute, Mikey summoned his one last ounce of energy and jumped in front of Leo. He ended up winning by a few seconds.

Both stood on the rooftop panting. "That was pretty good, Leo. You almost beat me. That's the closest anyone's come to beating me, but I still won. After all, I'm the BATTLE NEXUS CHAMPION!"

"Keep it down, Mikey," Leo commanded, "but, yeah, thanks. Nice job."

Now the two brothers waited for Raph and Don to finish. Don was coming ahead with Raph a few feet behind. Pretty soon, Don was declared the third place winner with Raph coming in last.

"Amazing." – pant – "I came in" – pant – "third place." He panted some more. "I always lose." Don managed to say and then collapsed on the ground.

"I know. I'm the one who usually claims third place," Raph remarked.

"You just need more agility and speed, Donny," said Mikey, "but no matter how fast you are, you can never beat the BATTLE NEXUS CHAMPION!"

"Alright, that's it! I'm sick of hearing you say that!" Raph then chased Mikey around the rooftop while Mikey laughed and continued to taunt his brother.

Leo, on the other hand, began to hear a noise amidst the shouts and laughter that sounded like a helicopter. "Guys, cool it!"

Raph and Mikey ceased running around. "Why yah stoppin' me, fearless?" Raph angrily asked. He wanted to tackle Mikey to the ground.

Leo didn't pay attention to Raph and listened for the noise again. It was definitely a helicopter. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered him, but something about this helicopter didn't seem right. His suspicions were correct when the helicopter hovered above where the Turtles were standing, and the door was opened to reveal Agent Bishop.

Don jumped into standing position, and all four turtles immediately drew out their weapons and got into a defensive stance. Leo stared hard into the steely glint of the man's eyes through his shades. "What do you want, Bishop?"

"I need one of you to assist me with a very important experiment of mine whether you do it willingly or not." Then all of the sudden, a group of genetically enhanced soldiers jumped out of the helicopter. "Soldiers, you know what I want!" shouted Agent Bishop. At that instant, all five genetically enhance soldiers rushed into battle with super speed, super strength, and powerful guns.

The Turtles leaped into battle as well, but unfortunately, they were all worn out from their race so doing battle was especially difficult for them. Adding super powered humans to the mix made it even worse. Still, they fought as hard as they could. Leo used his katana to deflect lasers and tried to disarm his opponents while Raph used his sais for long range combat as he threw them into the barrel of the guns. Soon, Leo and Raph were shell to shell clawing their way out of Agent Bishop's soldiers as more and more seem to jump out of the helicopter and into the battlefield. On the other hand, Don and Mikey were cut off from each other. As Don used his bo staff to disarm his opponents and knock them into unconsciousness, Mikey was spinning his nunchucks while backing up. It seemed that the majority of the soldiers decided to fight him. When Mikey saw that he was at the edge of the building, he leaped into action, swinging his nunchucks violently and narrowly dodging lasers.

"Hey, Don, a little help here?" called Mikey as more soldiers rushed in to do battle with him.

Don noticed that his little brother was in trouble and rushed over to help Mikey, but as he tried, it seemed as though his opponents were trying to keep him separated from his youngest brother. Don also noticed that Bishop's soldiers were trying to keep Raph and Leo separated. "Guys," Don called out to all of his brothers, "they're trying to isolate us from each other!"

Leo noticed that Don was right. He knew that they were trying to isolate them from each other to make it easier to capture one of them. _But who were they trying to capture? _thought Leo. Putting this thought aside, Leo barked out an order, "Try to watch each other's back, guys."

Don tried to fight his way towards Mikey when he noticed Agent Bishop with a tranquilizer pointed straight at MIKEY! The soldier shot the tranquilizer.

"Mikey, look out!" Don shouted to his younger brother.

Mikey turned around and faced Don. "Huh?" But it was too late. The tranquilizer dart hit Mikey's neck, and soon Mikey lost consciousness.

"Mikey!" Don called out and instantly jumped into the circle of soldiers who were about to take Mikey. Don stood on top of Mikey as he used his bo staff to viscously defend his fallen brother. Leo and Raph noticed Mikey being tranquilized and rushed over to help Don.

As Leo and Raph took on most of the genetically enhanced soldiers and fought with rage and newly founded energy, Don checked Mikey's vital signs and was relieved to find Mikey still alive and healthy. Don kept guard over Mikey, often fighting a soldier who came too close to him and his little brother, but while one soldier was fighting Don, another one hit Don hard on the head, knocking Don out cold. Both soldiers took Mikey and called off their comrades. They jumped onto the helicopter with Mike in tow. Raph and Leo saw Don out cold and Mikey being taken away. Both turtles rushed to Mikey's defense, but the soldiers easily thwarted the two oldest turtles.

"Goodbye, Turtles. I have what I want now," Agent Bishop said menacingly. He closed the helicopter's door and flew away west with Mikey.

Leo and Raph just gaped at the disappearing helicopter. Their little brother was gone, and there was a hundred percent possibility that Mikey will be tortured, hurt or even worse killed in Agent Bishop's experiment. "MIKEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" Raph shouted to the now gone helicopter. In pure rage and fury, Raph took off and chased after the helicopter.

"Raph, wait!" Leo called out, but Raph didn't listen. Leo picked up Don and carried him firefighter style and chased after Raph.

Carrying a two hundred thirty pound turtle on his back while already worn out from a race and battle and worried about two brothers were taking their toll on Leo's speed as he ran after his brother. For a minute there, Leo didn't think he would be able to catch up to Raph. Leo was also worried about Don. He was afraid that Don might have a concussion or worse, severe brain damage from that hit. Those soldiers' strength was powerful beyond their capabilities. Not only Leo was worried for Don, he felt sick with guilt and worry for his youngest brother. He couldn't protect Mikey, and now Mikey is gone to God-knows-where. Big brothers are supposed to protect their younger brothers, but Leo failed Mikey…and Don. If he didn't find Raph uninjured, he might as well failed Raph and failed as a big brother. He almost let tears escape through his eyes. Luckily, Leo found Raph kneeling on a rooftop about a mile away from the battle scene.

Leo slowly walked towards Raph like one might walk towards an injured and frightened animal. "Raph?" Leo gently said.

Without turning around, Raph began say between angered breaths, "They took Mikey, Leo. They freakin' took him! Our little brother is gone, and I couldn't save him! Who knows what that _man _will do to him? If they…if they hurt or kill him, I'm going to rip Bishop apart or die trying!" Then Raph began to scream in agony and rage.

Leo calmly waited for Raph to finish his rant and raging screams. When Raph was done, Leo calmly said, "I know Raph and don't worry. We will find Mikey. We don't let someone take our brother away without getting him back. Come on. There's nothing we can do now, and Don needs some medical attention."

Raph snapped at the mentioning of his second youngest brother. "Don? How is he? How bad is he hurt? I'm gonna kill Bishop if…"

Leo cut him off. "I don't know, but it can't be too bad," Leo reassured. "Come on. We need to get home."

Raph nodded and got up. Both of them began sprinting back to the manhole which will lead to the Lair without saying a word. It was only when they were halfway there that the silence was broken.

"Leo?" Raph began to ask.

"Mmmhh?"

"Who's gonna tell Mater Splinter that Mikey was captured?"

It was the question that neither of them wanted to answer, but it was also the thing they did not want to do the most. Breaking the news to your father that one of his children had been kidnapped is not a very easy task but heartbreaking and emotionally devastating.

Finally, Leo said, "I will. It's my responsibility as leader." For once Raph didn't argue. "But I need to take care of Don first."

"I'll take care of Don for yah, fearless," Raph offered.

"Thanks, Raph."

The two brothers with one in tow, raced to the manhole covering to break the sad news to their father that the youngest has been captured.


	2. Breaking The News

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p><strong>Mikey's POV.<strong>

My head feels so dizzy. Why's my vision so blurry, and are we moving? What's that annoying sound that's giving me a migraine? What happened last night? I feel like I'm suffering a hangover or have been run over by a train. Leo? Don? Raph? Are you there? Where are you guys? Finally, the darkness in my vision is clearing, _only to be covered by a blinding white light_. Is that the entrance to heaven? Am I dead? No, I'm not dead. That's just some powerful blinding, white light they use in hospitals when performing surgery. So where am I? In Don's lab? I can't be. It feels like we're moving. Maybe I'm in the Battle Shell. No. That couldn't be it either. We didn't bring the Battle Shell. Maybe it's some kind of drug or painkiller. Was I knocked out or something? My head feels like a ton of bricks.

"Glad to see you awake, Michelangelo."

Now my stomach feels like a ton of bricks. I know that voice anywhere. That cold and collected, emotionless, deep voice belongs to Agent Bishop himself. Someone moves the light away from me, and I can see that I'm strapped down to a table in a helicopter. That explains why we're moving. Still, I don't feel any better. Actually, I feel worse as dread sinks into the pit of my stomach now made out of bricks and my brick mind fills with anxiety as I began to remember what happened.

We were fighting Agent Bishop's men. I was knocked out, and now I wake up in a helicopter. I was obviously captured. I also remember Agent Bishop saying he needed only one of us for his experiment. That means I'm the only one on board while my brothers are left in New York. I remembered that time when Agent Bishop captured all four of us. Twice he held a buzz saw close to my plastron. He was going to kill me! Will he kill me this time?

I gulped. "So…um…how's it going?"

Agent Bishop just stared at me with his emotionless eyes hidden by his really cool shades. Maybe I should ask him where he got them. That way, when I get out of this sticky situation, I can buy a pair for myself.

Finally, he spoke. "Michelangelo, I must ask you something. Have you ever dreamed of becoming a human so you may walk in the sunlight and fulfill all your dreams?"

My eyes widened. Becoming human? That's something every single one of us including Master Splinter has dreamed about. Sure, I love being a mutant turtle and all but becoming human would be even better. I could do everything that I always dreamed of doing like learning how to surf and snowboard, skydiving, publishing my own comic book, running for the U.S. Olympic track team, and most of all, just hang out with kids my own age without feeling like I don't belong with them. Still, this is Agent Bishop we're talking about. He just doesn't make dreams come true, especially for mutant creatures such as myself.

Without answering, I suspiciously asked, "Why do you care?"

"Because, Michelangelo," Agent Bishop continued, not caring that I answered his previous question, "I have always been fascinated that your family's DNA is so close to that of a human. I often wondered if I could turn a mutant creature into a human. I decided to experiment on this idea, and I have chosen you for it because out of your whole entire family, you seem to act the most like a regular teenage human."

Awwww. So I'm not unique among the humans? That hurts, but then again. I always did enjoy and do things what most humans, or at least teenage boys and preteens might enjoy and do. "Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"To a secret laboratory of mine in Area 51." The Agent Bishop got up and walked towards the cockpit. When I was sure that he disappeared through those doors, I tried to wiggle my arms free to get my Shell Cell to call the guys. I'm surprised that Agent Bishop told me where we're going. You think he'd have a bit more care, but no, he seemed overconfident. I finally managed to free my right arm and tried to reach for my Shell Cell when I realized that my Shell Cell along with my weapons were gone. Now I understood why Agent Bishop gave me the location of our destination. He severed me from my source of communication so I couldn't call my bros for help.

Agent Bishop came back and noticed that I managed to free myself. He smiled a cold and evil smile as he pointed out the obvious. "I see now that you manage to free your right arm, obviously in an attempt to reach your Shell Cell or whatever you call it. Just so you know, I had my men carefully dissemble your phone so that no signal will appear, no tracking device will work, and no way to call your family and vice versa. Your weapons were also burned saved for the only inflammable part – the chain." Agent Bishop re-strapped and left me. My babies are utterly destroyed, well, except for the chain. Those weapons were given to me by my own father when I was eight-years-old, and I kept them close since. Not only my weapons were destroyed but so was my Shell Cell. I have no way of calling my family, and they have no way of tracking me down. Don's gonna kill me for getting my Shell Cell destroy if he doesn't kill himself trying to figure out why the tracking system isn't working.

Agent Bishop reappeared with a syringe in his hand. He injected me in the arm, and my vision blacked out. With my head now weight a ton and my vision darkening, I revisited the world of unconsciousness.

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><p><strong>In the Lair; Third person POV<strong>

Leo, Raph, and an unconscious Donatello were met by Master Splinter at the Lair's entrance. Somehow, Master Splinter sensed something was wrong and seeing only three out of four of his sons with one of them out cold told him that he was right.

"My sons, what happened to Donatello, and where is Michelangelo?" Master Splinter calmly asked, but his eyes were clouded with worry and fear.

Leo spoke first. "Don is out cold. He needs medical attention. About Mikey, well ummh, I tell you after we take care of Don over here."

Master Splinter nodded in understanding as he headed to the dojo where he will be waiting for Leonardo to break the news to him. Leo carried Don to his lab while Raph followed him. They laid Don in one of the four cots and cleaned up any cuts and bruises he had. They also saw that he had a large bump on the head from the impact of the side of the soldier's heavy gun hitting Don's head. Raph put an icepack on Don's bump. Raph and Leo were not that well informed in the world of medical science so they somehow managed to hook Don to a heart monitor just in case. To their relief, Don's heart beat was as normal as it could be.

Raph stayed in the lab with Donny to watch over him in case anything went wrong while Leo reluctantly trudged to the dojo to break the devastating news to his father. It was almost as if he was informing his father that Mikey had been killed. He might as well be dead now that he's in the hands of Agent Bishop. _No! That's not true! Mikey is still alive! He's strong! He can survive whatever's being done to him! _

Leo knocked on the dojo door and heard a soft "Come in." Leo entered the dojo to find his father deep in meditation.

"Kneel, my son." Leo did as he was told. Master Splinter finally opened his eyes. "Now, first I must ask. How is Donatello?"

This question was the easiest to answer, and Leo was glad for that. "Don had a few minor cuts and bruises so we disinfected and bandaged them up. We also placed an icepack over the bump on the back of Don's head where he was hit. We hooked Don up to a heart monitor, and his heartbeat is normal. He seems okay although he could have a concussion."

Master Splinter breathed a sigh of relief. "That is good to hear. Now, what do you wish to tell me, my son?"

Nervousness fluttered in Leo's stomach. He didn't want to break the news of Mikey's disappearance to his father, but it had to be done, and it was his responsibility. Leo bowed his head in sadness. "Master Splinter, we were ambushed by Agent Bishop's men, and they captured Mikey. I'm sorry."

Leo looked up to take a peek at his father's expression. In that calm and seemingly unfazed face, he saw shock and fear in his wide eyes. "Thank you, Leonardo," he said as calmly as possible, "for informing me of my youngest son's disappearance. I am sure you did your best to protect your brother."

"It sure doesn't feel like it. I felt like I failed him, Master, him and Don, too," Leo admitted.

"My son, I know you will not go down easily when it comes to fighting to protect the safety of your brothers. You have managed to bring Donatello home safely, and it seems like he will be alright. We will find Michelangelo," Master Splinter comforted.

"True, Master, but I can't help but feel failure, and Don _might _be alright. For all we know, he could have severe brain damage."

"My son, if you still feel as though you failed your youngest brothers than perhaps you can try and redeem yourself by doing all you can to find Michelangelo and nursing Donatello back to health."

Leo knew Master Splinter was right, and in that he felt slightly better. Leo bowed his head, but in this time out of respect. "Thank you, Master Splinter."

"Now, my son, please go and attend to Donatello. I must meditate in order to find Michelangelo on the astral plane."

"Yes, Master." Leo stood up and bowed again. He left Master Splinter in peace and returned to Donatello, to his relief, was awake. "Donny, you're alright! How are you feeling? Can you remember anything before you were knocked out cold?"

Raph cut Leo off from asking anymore questions. "Hold on, fearless, Donny-boy's just woke up. Give him a chance to talk."

"Sorry," Leo apologized.

"I'm alright, Leo, although, I must say that I'm impressed at both of your attempts at playing substitute doctors. You both did really well. I don't have a severe concussion although I might have a small one. And yeah, I remember everything that happened to me before that genetically enhanced soldier knocked me out which brings me to one question. Where's Mikey?" asked Don.

Leo and Raph looked at each other with grim looks. Raph decided to break the news of Mikey being captured this time. "Don, just when you were knocked out cold, one of Bishop's soldiers captured Mikey. They flew west with Mikey as Bishop's captive, or in Bishop's case, _guinea pig_."

Don looked at both of his older brothers with horror in his eyes. "No!" he shouted. "That can't be! If I…if I was more careful and didn't let that soldier hit me on the head, I could have saved Mikey." Don looked like he was about to cry.

Leo placed a comforting hand on Don's shoulder and remembering the words of his father, Leo reassured, "Don, it wasn't your fault. We know you would give it your all trying to defend Mikey. We all did. No one blames you. We're just glad you're okay."

Don nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Leo. Does Master Splinter know about Mikey?"

Raph looked at Leo. Leo nodded sadly. "Yeah, I told him. He's meditating right now looking for Mikey on the astral plane. Later, I'll tell him that you've woken up."

"Okay."

Five minutes of awkward silence passed until Raph spoke up. "So what's our first course of action?"

"Well, Master Splinter is mediating trying to find Mikey," Leo answered.

Then Don spoke up, "If Master Splinter can't find Mikey, I can use my laptop to track Mikey down using his Shell Cell. Hopefully Agent Bishop didn't destroy Mikey's Shell Cell, but even if he did, the signal will show me the last location of Mikey before it was destroyed. If that's the case, we can scout that area and look for clues or leads. We can also search in that underground laboratory near the river."

"That laboratory was east of where we were. The helicopter was going west," said Leo.

"And besides," said Raph, "we destroyed it, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Don said.

Then Master Splinter entered the laboratory. "Donatello, how are you, my son?"

"I'm fine, Master Splinter, although I might have a small concussion. Other than that, I'm okay."  
>"I'm glad to hear that."<p>

"Master Splinter," Leo asked, "were you able to locate Mikey?"

Master Splinter shook his head sadly. "No, my son, but when I was trying to locate your brother, I felt some kind of force blocking me from entering Michelangelo's mind."

"Could it be Mikey's mind blocking your presence?" Leo asked.

"No, it felt strange and foreign."

"It could be an effect of a drug," said Don. "Agent Bishop could have drugged Mikey that might have prevented you from reaching Mikey."

"Perhaps that is so, Donatello."

"Hey, Leo," Don began to ask, "hand me my laptop, will yah?"

Leo unplugged Don's laptop and gave it to Don. Don turned it on and logged onto his GPS device connected to all four Turtles' Shell Cells. "No way! How's that possible?"

"What is it, Don?" Leo asked.

"Mikey's Shell Cell signal is not showing up."

"Whaddya mean it's not showing up? Raph nearly shouted.

"I mean what I say. It's gone. Even if Mikey's Shell Cell was destroyed, the signal will still show up at the location where the phone was destroyed, but it's gone."

"Couldn't Mikey's Shell Cell be turned off, or maybe they're in an area without satellite connection?" Leo asked.

Don shook his head no. "Even if Mikey's Shell Cell was turned off, a signal will appear showing Mikey's last location before his phone was turned off, and for the satellite thing, well, that's possible, but the Shell Cell's connection to a satellite is stronger than say a TV's connection to a satellite." Don closed his laptop. "Bishop must really want Mikey for whatever experiment he wants to perform."

Raph took out his sais and began twirling them around. "I say we track down Bishop's helicopter and use that to find Mikey.

"I can if you guys attached a tracking device on it. Did you?" Don asked.

Leo shook his head no. "No, we didn't. We didn't have one, and even if we did, we wouldn't have been able to get close enough to plant it onto the helicopter."

Don practically threw his upper body back down on the cot. "Then I have no way of tracking Mikey"

"You'll find a way, Donny. I know you will. Perhaps, you can find what was wrong with Mikey's Shell Cell tracking device and recover the signal," Leo reassured.

"I hope so," Don moaned.

"In the meantime, my sons, Donatello will need his rest. In the morning we will assume the search for Michelangelo."

Leo and Don agreed, but Raph protested. "I can't rest, Master, while Mikey is missing. You guys can rest. I'm going topside to find him now."

Master Splinter put a paw on Raph's shoulder as he was about to head out. "I understand your concern, Raphael, but you need your energy in order to find your brother."

Raph reluctantly grumbled out, "Fine."

"Well, I'm good to sleep in my own room," said Don as he unhooked himself from the heart monitor and jumped out of the cot. All three brothers and their father walked towards their respected rooms sick with worry and fear for Michelangelo.


	3. Area 51

**Here is where I explain whow Mikey will be transformed as a human. Warning: unless you have not taken AP biology or know nothing about complex genetics, you might want Wikipedia to help you understand this. It's not too hard to understand, but hox genes are mentioned in this, and hox genes are genes that determine structure in an animal as it developes in the embrionic stage or pupa stage. They are very critical in determining the proper placement of segment structure although I don't think they are used in genetic breakdown. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles.**

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><p><strong>Mikey's POV<strong>

I slowly woke up still feeling like my head and stomach were made out of bricks but this time with an extra brick wall. I would kill for some Tylenol. But this time, instead of waking up in a helicopter, I find myself strapped down to a table in a white laboratory that looks like it came from an old fashioned horror movie. I am vaguely reminded of _Frankenstein_.I try to wiggle myself free from the table, but I couldn't. I would kill for some Tylenol and for some heavy duty scissors.

"Where am I," I groaned. Then I remembered something Bishop said to me in the helicopter. _Oh, yeah, I'm in Area 51. _What state is Area 51 in? Oh, crap, it's in Nevada. It would take at least a week to get back to New York City by car, and I don't even want to think about how long it would take to get back by foot. It should only take around a few hours by plane. Area 51 is a military base. Maybe I can steal a plane. Nah, I don't even know how to fly one, and the military won't cease hunting me down for grand plane theft. Maybe, I can steal Bishop's helicopter. I can fly a helicopter, but first I need to get out of here so I come up with a plan.

Mission Slicer: Free myself from this table.

Mission Impossible: Use ninja stealth to find my way outta here.

Mission Escapee: Hijack a helicopter and fly myself outta here

Sounds easier said than done. I will have to dodge lasers while blindly navigating a building I know nothing about. I also have to find a helicopter and find a way to hijack it, and all that can happen first if I can free myself first. Damn Bishop! I can't do anything now. I don't see any tools on the table. They're probably stored in those drawers and cabinets. Maybe, when Bishop comes in and un-straps me, I can make my escape. That's probably the best option I got right now so I'll just wait. And stare at the white ceiling. And wait. And wait some more. Until the white walls and ceilings seem like they're suffocating me with their bright whiteness and irony. White is pure and innocent and bright is what light is which is a symbol of goodness, but this is the evil lab of a mad scientist. Right now the irony is making me laugh, but soon it starts to kill me. Slowly and painfully. And I can't help but laughing again at the irony as it kills me. Who would have thought that I would have died by irony? And just the irony in that question (because you would think that I being a ninja would die in battle) comes rushing in to help that other ironic statement to kill me.

I am seriously going insane.

The hours pass as my eyes burn from the white and my lungs suffocate from the walls and ceiling while two ironic statements slowly kill me. It's all painful, and when combined, it's pure agony. And this stupid table won't let me go. The straps are helping the walls suffocate my lungs. Then the prince of darkness enters with a needle in his hand, and in a voice that sounds like the grim reaper, he says, "Hello again, Michelangelo. Are you ready for your transformation into a human?"

I gulp, and for some reason, I shiver as Bishop uses his needle to extract blood from me, and he does this for what seems like every day. Every day, he comes in with a needle and extracts more fluids from me, and it's not always blood. Then once he finishes, he leaves. He never tells me why he's doing this. I'm guessing it has to do with DNA, but how many samples does he need? Every day he does this, and every day, I hate it even more. I always was afraid of needles. I don't know why, but I hate them. But it's different this time. I still hate the needles Bishop uses on me, but the shots I get back at home are injecting something in me which always hurts. These needles are taking something from me. It doesn't hurt, but it feels really uncomfortable and makes me squirm especially the feeling of blood being sucked up from your body. It's not like a mosquito bite. I wish it was. I wish I was back at home.

My thoughts drifted to my brothers and father. Leo must be killing himself with guilt over failing to protect me while Don is killing himself trying to find me. Raph is killing himself beating the crap out of his punching bag and going topside to find me. Master Splinter is killing himself meditating to try and find me. They're all killing themselves, and I'm not there to save them from themselves. I hope April and Casey can temporarily fill in for me. And what about me? I'm killing myself over missing them. We're all gonna end up dead unless we don't reunite with each other soon.

**In another Lab; Third Person POV.**

Agent Bishop analyzed some of Mikey's DNA samples. The he analyzed some human DNA samples, trying to find a possible connection between the two. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice Baxter Stockman walk into the laboratory.

"Hello, Agent Bishop," Stockman almost sneered out.

Agent Bishop paused from his work and without turning around, simply said, "Hello, Dr. Stockman."

"Are you still working on that project of yours?" Dr. Stockman asked. "You know it's impossible to turn a turtle into a human, especially since that the turtle is fully developed and no longer in the gamete stage. The best chance you have for your experiment of becoming a success is to insert some human DNA into that turtle. Then get him to mate with a mutant female species of his if there are any mutant female turtles. Their offspring will contain human DNA and show some human physical trait amongst their turtle DNA and physical trait, but even then, the offspring will not be human or even remotely being close to half human."

"True, if you do it that way," Agent Bishop simply said as he looked at data from both specimen's DNA.

"What do you mean?" asked Dr. Stockman.

Agent Bishop ceased looking at the DNA. "I have developed a new way of turning creatures from one species to another, and I would like to test it on Michelangelo."

Curious, Dr. Stockman asked, "What way have you developed?"

"By studying the complete metamorphism of some insects and human and red-eared slider development, I believe I have found a way to turn a mutant turtle into a human through genetic breakdown and reformation," revealed Agent Bishop.

"You do realize that once an organism is fully developed, it's impossible for genetic breakdown to happen," said Dr. Stockman.

"That is true, Dr. Stockman," said Agent Bishop, "but in insects with a complete metamorphism, they undergo a breakdown of their larval structures while their adult structures form inside the pupa. By mimicking that, I can transform Michelangelo into a human."

"But insects that contain a pupa in their life cycle have hormones that control the whole process of pupation. The making of those hormones are encoded within the insects' DNA. Humans and turtles don't have those hormones," explained Dr, Stockman, "and because insects, humans, and turtles are not very closely related nor shared a very close evolutionary history, it is highly doubtful that you will find a turned off gene in the human and turtle's DNA encoding for hormones meant for insect pupation."

"Dr. Stockman, you have forgotten that I said nothing about using insect DNA or hormones to aid me in my experiment. I have only used information about pupation and its causes to help me in my experiment," said Agent Bishop.

"Then how do you plan to transform Michelangelo into a human?" asked Dr. Stockman.

"By using hox genes that I have genetically made to turn turtle DNA into human DNA and certain types of hormones, I will inject them along with human DNA into Michelangelo. Then I will induce Michelangelo into a state of unconsciousness while placing him in a bio fluid that acts not only like a human womb but like a pupa. As Michelangelo is in the bio fluid, the hox genes will do their work by breaking down turtle DNA and turning it into the human DNA I have injected into Michelangelo," explained Agent Bishop.

"That is very brilliant," complimented Dr. Stockman, "but how do you know it will work?"

"I don't know. That is why I chose one of the mutant turtles. Due to their mutation, their DNA is similar to that of a human. They also act – physically, emotionally, and mentally – like a human. Michelangelo seems to act like a human the most due to his childish personality. He will be my lab rat in testing my experiment. Hopefully, he won't die in the process."

"Mmmmh, I see then. If you need my assistance, I will gladly help you," Dr. Stockman said and then he strode off.

Agent Bishop stared at a vial containing the hox genes. He smiled. "Say goodbye to your turtle self, Michelangelo. Very soon, you will be a part of one of the greatest advancements in genealogy."

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><p><strong>So was it too bad? I'm just trying to remember everything I learned about DNA and genetics from my AP biology class in order for the whole process to make sense.<strong>


	4. Missing You

**This chapter focuses on the emotional side of the family and Mikey so no science stuff. I tried experimenting with different writing styles to convey each turtle's and rat's different agony so constructive criticism would be awesome! Btw, spring break is over for me so I won't get to update as often as I would like, but I will try. Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles**

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><p><strong>Mikey's POV<strong>

I feel like I'm going insane in this room, but thinking about my family keeps me somewhat sane and a little sad and lonely. Lately, Bishop hasn't been coming back so it's just me stuck in this white room all alone. I never did enjoy being alone. It scared me. I remember when I first became afraid of loneliness was when I was four-years-old, and I got lost in the sewers. When I think back on it, I might have been lost for two days because I remember falling asleep once after what felt like a long day and having a nightmare. In my nightmare, I dreamed that I was sitting, hugging my legs close to my body, as my family laid dead around me. I felt so alone! I remember waking up crying. I was scared that I'll be lost and alone forever and that I'll never see my brothers or father again. Pretty soon, Master Splinter found me. I instantly snuggled up inside his arms. Ever since then, I always was afraid of being alone. Now I'm fifteen-years-old, and I really might be alone forever. I have no idea of getting back home, and Bishop made sure that my brothers had no way of finding me. Even if they did, they wouldn't recognize me. I'll be a human; a thought that excites me but terrorizes me at the same time.

I wish I had Raphie around. Whenever I had a nightmare, Raphie was right there to chase the monsters away. I wish he could chase Bishop away. I also wish Donny was here. Donny was always compassionate and comforting. Whenever Leo and Raph would argue, we would curl up against each other while Donny soothed my irrational fears that Raph and Leo would never hate or hurt each other during a fight. When I was younger and whenever Leo and Raph fought, I felt like a child who was afraid that his parents were going to get a divorce. Donny was always there to reassure me. I wish he was here to do the same thing. I also want Leo, too. Leo was the leader of the group, but he was almost like a dad or something. It can be annoying at times like you're sick of him bossing you around, but mostly, it can really be reassuring. When Raph threatens to kill me or when Don loses his patience with me, Leo's always there to defend me and stick up for me. He always looks out for me. No matter what. Right now, I need him to watch my back, especially when I find a way to escape out of here. Besides my brothers, I also miss Master Splinter. He's my sensei, but more importantly, he's my father. Master Splinter's always ready to fight to the death to protect us all like that time Bishop almost sliced me open with that buzz saw. Master Splinter instantly leaped up, kicked Bishop away from him while shouting "Keep away from my son!" Right now, I wish Father was here to save me from my situation. I miss my family. I wanna go home! Maybe If I fell asleep and dreamed about home, this would all turn into an awful memory.

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><p><strong>In the Lair; Don's POV<strong>

I typed furiously on my computer, trying to recover the lost signal. Perhaps, my software wasn't working perfectly, but I scanned it for any viruses, spyware, or any flaws, and the scanner said it was working perfectly. Maybe it was the lousy satellite connection so I tried finding some other way to locate the signal using radio towers and phone towers to find the signal but to no avail. Damn it! Where are you, Mikey?

_My energy is depleting. Coffee! I need more coffee more energy!_

The caffeine addiction is calling me again so I drank my fiftieth cup of black coffee today. I type on my laptop again. This time I search the Internet for any signs of a giant mutant turtle. The search results into nothing. That's good. It means our secret hasn't been exposed, and Mikey isn't being exploited by the public. On the other hand, that's bad. It means no sign of our little brother.

_The energy inside me builds up before it bursts into its full potential._

New ideas for searching pop into my head. Maybe we can find a way to track Bishop down which will lead us to Mikey. We once used half of a subway to get to Agent Bishop. That could work! Think, Don, think! When Master Splinter was abducted by Bishop, how did we find him? The recall signal in the subway was the key to finding Master Splinter. Maybe we can follow the track of the train, or I still have Shedder's helicopter. We can do an aerial search for Mikey. We can fly in the direction Bishop's helicopter was going. That would lead us to Mikey!

_The energy created from the caffeine crashed and burned leaving me powerless and hopeless._

Then reality came crashing down. It hit me that in the search-and-rescue, we fought Bishop and his slayer and in the process ended up destroying that laboratory. Most likely the subway was destroyed, too. No way would Mikey be there. And the helicopter idea? We don't know where Bishop's helicopter went just west of here. For all we know, it could have changed directions and ended up going northwest or all the way down south, and I have no way of tracking that helicopter. I always have been sure of my intelligence, but in times like these, I feel nothing but doubt and a low self-esteem.

I sipped some more coffee and took short break. Where are you, Mikey? You're the only youngest brother I got, and I don't want to be the youngest now. You're the only one who could call me "big brother". To me, it makes me feel special inside. Knowing that I may be the third youngest in the family, I'm still a big brother to one other person. It makes me feel special, and I'm sure it makes you feel special knowing that you are the only one who could call me "big brother" even though you rarely do. I miss you, Mikey, and I love you. Why can't I find you?

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><p><strong>Raph's POV<strong>

_Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat! Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat!_

This was my mantra for whenever I feel my own rage clawing the insides of my stomach and blinding my vision with red. This is my own little therapy. Mantras are supposed to be calming, but calming down isn't enough. I need to tame the beast inside of me before I do something I might regret.

_Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat! Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat!_

My own rage is triggered in many ways, and right now, Agent Bishop is the sole trigger and target of my burning rage. He took my little brother away from me away from our family. If he kills Mikey, I will kill him. It's as simple as that (even if all my sense of morals and humanity cry against it). The image of Bishop pops into my mind, and my eyesight is read. _Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! _my mind screams

_Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat! Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat!_

My mind shuts up, and my vision is back to normal. It's been nearly a month since Mikey was captured. A month without hearing his annoying laugh. A month without a stupid prank. A month without his cooking. A month without seeing his smile. A month without the sunshine he brings. A month without our little brother. A month too long. A month with all this extra rage inside me, and it's nearly consuming me. I need to kill something, or better yet, beat the crap out of my punching bag.

_Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat! Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat!_

As much as I would never admit it, I miss my little bro. WE shared a love-hate relationship, but he's probably the only one I will (barely) tolerate pranks and insults from, and the only one I will still let him call me "Raphie" even though I hate the nickname. In some bizarre way, we were close. I can do things with him that I wouldn't even think to do with Don or Leo such as sneaking out and having a little bit of fun. Leo and Don like rules and caution too much. Mikey and I know how to relax and have some fun.

_Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat! Punch! Whack! Kick! Repeat!_

The rage inside me begins to cool but only temporarily. I know it will come back like the monster it is, but later on, I will need the monster inside of me to fight the monster that's got my little brother. I'm Mikey's own personal hero, but I couldn't even protect him. Some hero I am. This thought nearly flames up my rage so I take my closed fist and punch the bag so hard that sand seeps out. That cools my rage again. I need my little bro. I miss the light he brings to our lives and to the lair. I love yah, Mikey. Maybe, I can find you if I go topside.

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><p><strong>Leo's POV<strong>

Higher! Not good enough. My technique is sloppy. If this were a real battle, I would have been dead long ago. Just need to my kick higher and my uppercut has to be stronger – much stronger. My sword strikes need to be more precise and more accurate. Think of my two katana as one sword. Work with them together. Don't treat them as separate swords. If I can't get this stupid kata right, someone else is gonna end up dead or missing because I failed to protect them.

Like I failed to protect Mikey.

My kata was sloppy during that battle. I was too focused with my opponents that I failed to notice how my brothers were holding out. I failed to notice Bishop targeting Mikey with that tranquilizer. I should have been more aware of the situation. I should have figured out which one of us Bishop was targeting and then focus protecting that brother.

My split kick needs stronger force. My stance is all wrong. It's too weak. I need to work on that. I'm not stealthy enough. Think quiet. I'm slowing down. I need to train more. I need to quicken my pace. Make my endurance and stamina much stronger than it already is. I don't know how strong I can make it, but I need to make it as strong as possible. My aim is off. I've been laying off shuriken practice. I should work with my shuriken a bit.

I'm the oldest, and I'm the leader. Master Splinter has entrusted me with the safety and protection of my brothers. Master Splinter says it was not my fault that Mikey was taken. Then why does it feel like my fault? Being leader can be so hard and stressful. I'm surprised I didn't crack under the pressure. I need some kind of healthy outlet besides training and meditation.

I should also discipline my mind. After training my body, I need to meditate some more. Keep my senses sharp and my reflexes quick. Ugh! It feels as though my body is holding me down like my body is a cage and the spirit inside of me wants to break free and do amazing feats beyond physical capability.

Mikey, where are you? Are you safe? Can you stay strong until we come for you? Please be alive, baby bro. I don't know what we would do without you. I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I couldn't be entrusted to keep you safe. Just hold one, baby bro, because I will come for you. We will find you, and we will come for you. Just hold on for now. You are a great ninja. I know you are. You can fight your way out of this.

Ugh! My katas suck! My body is breaking, but I can't rest. I can't ever rest. My mind is an infestation of these negative feelings: I feel so weak. I feel like a failure. I feel so guilty. I feel so broken. I feel so low. I feel so sad. I feel so worried. I feel so angry. If I don't stop feeling like this, I really am gonna crack under pressure.

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><p><strong>Master Splinter's POV<strong>

My son. My youngest son. My baby. My baby boy, where are you? Are you safe? Are you hurt? I can only pray that you are not in harm's way. I am your father, my son. A father is supposed to protect his children, keep them safe from harm, but you are missing. I couldn't protect you. It's the second worst nightmare a parent can receive. I can only pray that the darkest nightmare of a parent will not come true for me.

Every hour of the day, I meditate to find your presence, but I cannot locate you. I know you are alive. I can feel it in my heart. My mind searches the astral plane for any sign of your location or presence but to no avail. Still, I feel it in my heart that your death has not come.

I remember that when you were four-years-old, I took you and your brothers to play in the sewers. I just turned my back to break up a fight between Raphael and Leonardo, and when I turned around, you were gone! Panic flooded in me until it rose up. I searched everywhere for you. I was so afraid that I may never see you again or that when I do find you, you I will find you dead. For two days, I searched and meditated. I spent the night lying awake in bed, afraid for your safety. Thank God, I heard your cries when I searched the sewers again and found you. I remember the utter relief and joy I felt when I finally found you. I nearly cried out of happiness, but I needed to stay strong. You just woke up from a nightmare and needed me to hold you close. As I held you tight, I vowed never to lose you or your brothers again.

My son, I am so sorry that I broke my vow. I lost you, and this time, you weren't gone for two days but a month. And you didn't wander off and lost your way, someone took you against your will. I fear for your safety and life. If Agent Bishop has hurt you in any way or killed you, I do not know what I would do. I will kill to keep you safe, and I would gladly lay down my life to save yours. I love you so much, my son. I swear that I will find you and bring you home. I may have broken my vow, but I will not let it stay broken.

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><p><strong>So what do you think? Did I get each characters' thoughts and feelings right?<strong>


	5. Transformation: Going Through Changes

**Hello! I'm back. I'm so sorry for not reviewing sooner. I have an AP exam coming up in 2 days, I have to do 75 note cards for a debate project in English which counts for half my fourth marking period grade, and on top of all that, I have crew practice that doesn't end until 5:00. So, yeah, it took awhile. Okay, here's the exciting part. Mikey is getting transformed! This will be in two parts. In this chapter, you will see all the physical changes happening from start to finish. Next chapter, you will read it in Mikey's point of view as he slowly loses his mind. Chapter 7 is where all the fun begins. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles.**

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><p>For the first time in six months, Bishop entered the laboratory where he held Michelangelo hostage. Bishop smiled in sheer delight as he saw the turtle. He was excited that phase one was complete and phase two was just about to begin.<p>

"Hello, Michelangelo. We meet again," Bishop said with a menacing smile.

Mikey tried to keep his cool. "Long time no see, huh?"

"It is time for phase two of the transformation process. Phase one is complete. My genetically hox genes and hormones are made, and my human DNA has already been prepared. Now to insert it into your body." Bishop pushed the table downward so Mikey was facing up at the ceiling. Then Bishop hooked Mikey up to a series of needles through his head, arms, chest, and legs. The needles were connected by tubes that contained a fluid of hormones, human DNA, and hox genes. This scene of Mikey hooked up to various needles reminded Bishop of how they euthanize criminals these days.

Bishop turned on a machine which began the transport of the fluid into various parts of Mikey's body. The process only took fifteen minutes. Then Bishop turned off the machine. It was time to put Michelangelo into a coma so he may be hooked up in a container containing bio fluid in which he will transform into a human, but Bishop couldn't use a sedative on Michelangelo. That could interfere with the transformation process. He also couldn't hook Michelangelo up while still consciousness. He might resist and being dunked into bio fluid might cause him to panic due to fear of drowning which will ruin the process. Not only could those two risks could happen, but the brain needs all of its energy to focus on the transformation. It will be distracted if Michelangelo were awake. Bishop needed some other way to put Michelangelo into a state of unconsciousness. Bishop decided that he will hit Michelangelo hard on the back of his neck so that Mikey will fall into a state of unconsciousness. It won't put him into a coma, but if Bishop worked fast enough, he could keep Michelangelo unconscious enough for the whole transformation process. Also, hitting Mikey on the neck will prevent any head damage rather than hitting Mikey on the head.

Bishop unhooked Michelangelo from all the needles. He unstrapped the straps across the turtle's chest. He lifted the turtle's head and with his left hand, hit Michelangelo hard enough on the neck – not hard enough to break his neck – that the turtle's eyes closed, and he fell into unconsciousness.

Bishop wasted in not time getting out his radio from his pants pocket. He turned it on. "Please bring me a table to Lab 105 to transport the turtle with."

"Roger that, sir," said one of Bishop's lackeys. Immediately, a few scientists rushed in with a table meant for transporting large, living specimens with. Two of the three scientists unstrapped Michelangelo and hoisted him up onto the movable table. The third scientist strapped an unconscious Michelangelo down.

"Take him to the main laboratory," demanded Bishop. Without saying a word, the three scientists did as they were told with Bishop closely following behind them. Despite the calm and collected position he maintained, underneath his skin, his muscles were tingling with excitement. _It's almost time, _he thought.

The trip to Lab 105 to the Main Laboratory took twenty minutes. As soon as they got there, Bishop wasted no time in stripping Michelangelo from his mask, belt, and pads. He strapped Michelangelo to a breathing mask and to an artificial umbilical cord. If the transformation becomes a success, Michelangelo will have a human bellybutton due to that artificial umbilical cord. Both the breathing mask and the umbilical cord were attached to the lid of the container where not only breathable air was stored but nutrients and vitamins (much like a yolk sac) required for the transformation are stored in a small container attached to the lid. With the help of Stockman and the three other scientists, Bishop managed to get Michelangelo into the container. Bio fluid instantly filled up the container, and the lid was screwed on shut.

"Now we will have to wait and see if the transformation becomes a success," Bishop simply stated.

* * *

><p>Four weeks later, Bishop decided to observe his experiment's progress so he took some x-rays of Michelangelo in a way similar to an ultrasound. "Hmmmh," Bishop hummed as he examined the x-rays of the transforming Michelangelo. "Right now, it seems my specimen is undergoing a genetic breakdown. His mutant reptilian genes are being broken down, and the hormones are starting to turn on the human genes. The process is happening from the inside out."<p>

"So does it seem to be working?" Stockman piped up. So far, Michelangelo looked unchanged, and Stockman began to have his doubts.

Bishop raised an eyebrow. "Yes. It seems as though the process is happening from the inside out."

"Makes sense," said Stockman. "The internal structure of the body controls the external structure."

"That is true," said Bishop. He put down the X-rays and watched the seemingly unchanging Michelangelo.

As weeks went on, Michelangelo's insides began to breakdown and transform. Michelangelo's shell began to deteriorate, but his spinal cord began to become more human like. In a few weeks, Michelangelo's shell disappeared. Mikey, being a turtle, breathed in two ways – by employing buccal pumping and by contracting the abdominal muscles that cover the posterior opening of the shell. Soon, as Michelangelo's ribs and the rest of his skeletal system began to reconstruct itself, his lungs started to become more human like in which he can breathe only one way like all lung using vertebrates. Mikey's heart became more human like, and his reproductive system became more human as his cloaca disappeared and developed a male, placental mammalian reproductive organ meant to do as a cloaca does in egg-laying animals. In a few months, the internal process was complete.

Weeks went by, and soon they were months, now, Michelangelo was beginning to develop human external figures. His head was human looking but with scales and lacking human eyes, nose, and ears. Michelangelo's shell was gone and his plastron was disappearing, too. Mikey's feet were beginning to develop three more digits, and his hands were beginning to form two more digits. Soon, once all the digits developed, nails began to form. External ears with human skin began to form underneath the layer of scales, and Michelangelo's reptilian eyes were becoming more human like. Bishop even noticed a human nose was forming.

Mikey's plastron disappeared, and all his human facial features were done. Reptilian skin started peeling off revealing pale skin. _Interesting, _Bishop thought, _as a human, Michelangelo appears to be Caucasian. _Bishop also took note that Michelangelo seemed to be developing somewhat like how a human fetus develops, and the transformation takes as long as the human prenatal development. At this rate, Michelangelo will be done in a couple of weeks. He continued to valuate Michelangelo's process

Reptilian skin was all gone, and hair started developing on Mikey. Bishop noted that as a human 15-year-old, Mikey appeared to have the muscles of a runner. It seems as though his body is built for speed and agility. He wondered that if he captured Raphael instead, would Raphael as a human have the muscles of a wrestler instead of a runner? Bishop could only guess. Soon, hair was done developing and Michelangelo had long, brown hair. His light bangs almost covering his eyes, and the rest of his hair leaving his ears exposed and ending at the nape of his neck. He was quite a handsome boy.

It's been nine months since Michelangelo has been put into the container. Now the transformation was done. It was time to remove Michelangelo from the container and welcome him into the world as a human. Bishop called for some assistance and waited for it to come as he speculated if this experiment was a complete success. Would Michelangelo last in the world as a human? What if fatal side effects begin to happen? Would his life span be cut short? Would Michelangelo be able to grow and develop into a normal, adult human being?

_No use worrying now_, Bishop thought. His assistants and Stockman appeared. It was time for Michelangelo to be reborn again.


	6. Transformation: Losing Myself

**Because I've been lacking in my updates, I decided to upload again. Constructive Critiism would be great for this chapter. Disclaimer: Don't own ninja turtles.**

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><p><em>Who am I?<em>

_I'm Michelangelo Hamato, or Mikey for short_

_I'm a runner, ninja, skateboarder, artist, superhero, baby brother, a mutant turtle_

_And I don't want to lose all of that_

_But I feel like something's eating at the insides of my brain_

_Stripping away my memories_

_As it turns me into something else_

_I don't want to lose myself_

_I've always been the individual in the family_

_I enjoy being the weird one_

_The crazy one_

_The hyper one_

_The childish one_

_The artistic one_

_The funny one_

_Even when my brothers and father get annoyed with me_

_And wish for me to grow up_

_I will never do that_

_That's who I am_

_I will never change_

_But something inside my head is forcing that upon me_

_I don't wanna lose myself!_

_I don't wanna become some person with no name_

_No uniqueness_

_No individuality_

_No identity_

_No soul_

_Nobody_

_I need to remember who I am_

_Or else I will lose it all_

_I am a ninja…wait, ninja?_

_I was a ninja?_

_Everything feels so blurry_

_Things I knew so well are fading away_

_Leo, Raph, Don, Splinter, April, Casey_

_They are all becoming blurrier and blurrier_

_They're my brothers, father, and friends_

_Who are they?  
>No, keep remembering who they are<em>

_And how much they mean to me_

_They will never disappear from my heart_

_But who are they?_

_I know they are close to me_

_But it's becoming so harder to remember_

_It's on the tip of my tongue_

_But I can barely remember_

_They're like early childhood memories_

_That I know but don't understand the whole scene_

"Michelangelo?"

_Huh? Who's that? Why does he sound so familiar?_

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><p>Master Splinter was meditating in his room. Miss O'Neil and Mister Jones had shown earlier to help his sons in their search for Michelangelo. He only ceased meditating temporarily to greet them and to make them some tea. Then he went back to his room to continue his supernatural search for his lost son.<p>

He furrowed his eye ridge in deep concentration and mental strain. He continued to search for the presence of his lost son even harder, searching every corner of the astral plane for any sign of Michelangelo. It felt so dark in the astral plane until he caught the feeling of a faint orange glow. It was fading away, but Master Splinter wasted no time in trying to hone in on the dim orange light. He realized that this light had the feeling of his missing son. Could it be Michelangelo?

"Michelangelo?"

* * *

><p><em>That voice! I know that voice, but from where?<em>

"Michelangelo, it is me, your father."

_Now I know! _"Master Splinter?"

"My son!"

_My son? Is he my father? It feels like it he is_

_I feel this fatherly aura surrounding him. So is he my dad?_

_I can barely remember. I think so, but I don't know so._

_This monster keeps eating away my brain_

_It's like some kind of mutated insect_

_And I don't have a can of insecticide to kill it_

"Master Splinter?"

"Yes, my son?"

"Are you my father?"

* * *

><p>Master Splinter was confused by this statement. Of course he was Michelangelo's father. His son knew that, but this time, Michelangelo wasn't sure. What is happening to Michelangelo's mind? Worry and fear entered Master Splinter's mind to make room with confusion. Instead of panicking, the ninja master decided to give his lost son his answer.<p>

* * *

><p>"My son, you do not remember? I am your father and master. I have raised you and your brothers since you were infants, and I have instructed you four in the ways of ninjitsu."<p>

_I was a ninja? Why would I want to be a ninja?_

_Hold on, four of us? There's more besides me? What were their names?_

_Why can't I remember? Somebody make this thing stop._

_Somebody make it stop eating my mind, my memories, everything that makes me who I am!_

_I can't remember who those four were. They don't even sound familiar_

_I think I'm losing it_

"My son?"

_My son? Why does he keep calling me that? Who is he?_

_Is he that insect who eats away at my mind?_

_Or is he something else – part of some memory that the insect is trying to feed on?_

_Who is he? Who am I?_

"Wh-who are you?"

_And he disappeared. Whoever _he _was._

* * *

><p>The orange glow faded completely away, and Master Splinter lost hold of Michelangelo's presence. He tried to find him again, but it was no use. His son didn't even remember him. How could his son not remember him? He is the only father Michelangelo has known, and Michelangelo is his son – one of his most precious beings in his life. So how could Michelangelo not remember him?<p>

Master Splinter felt agony grip his heart as he collapsed further into the floor. His baby boy can't even remember him. He lost him. He truly did. If Michelangelo could not remember him, what are the chances of Michelangelo remembering his brothers or anything else including himself? A tear escaped from his right eye. Bishop had something to do with this. It wasn't enough that he had to physically take his son away from him but now mentally? What more will this man do to his baby?

Master Splinter did not make a sound as he started to cry. The stab in the heart was too painful to hide and endure. It was almost as if Michelangelo had just died, and he was witnessing his son's final moments before death.

More tears began to flow. How will he tell the rest of his family that their brother does not remember him?

* * *

><p><em>Who am I?<em>

_I'm Michelangelo, or Mikey for short_

_And that's all I know_

_I don't know who I am anymore_

_I can't even remember my last name_

_If I had one_

_The insect is full with my mind and memories_

_Leaving just an empty space inside my skull_

Time to open my eyes now


	7. Human

**Here it is! The chapter you have all been waiting for. Author's note: updates may be slow do to this debate project that's due this Wednesday. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles.**

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><p>Using a crane, the container containing the now human Mikey was lowered onto the ground. The bio fluid began to drain down. Once it was completely empting, someone operating a large drill unscrewed the lid. Another man was on a ladder and removed the breathing mask and cut off the artificial umbilical cord. A second man helped the other man bring Mikey down to the floor.<p>

Bishop could only watch this process happening with growing excitement. So far his creation was a success. He wondered if it will stay a success. He also couldn't help observe details about the human boy like his hair color, skin color, and his build. To a human girl, Mikey was quite handsome.

Mikey was placed in front of Bishop, and Bishop made a mental note to provide the boy with some clothes. For now, it was time to wake him up.

* * *

><p><strong>Mikey's POV<strong>

My eyes slowly opened and everything came into focus. I was in a laboratory. _How did I get in here?_ I groaned softly as I tried to hack my memories for some explanation but found none. My mind was devoid of memories. Still, the world felt new to me.

Everything felt new like I was a baby who was just born into this strange and curious world. Not only this world felt new, but I felt new. Why I felt like this I had no idea, but my brain was telling me to observe myself so I did. I looked at my hands – five fingers – and my feet – five toes. Why was that a revelation? Doesn't everyone have five fingers and toes on each hand and foot? I touched my cheeks and felt…skin! Why is that such a big deal? Still, everything about me felt new.

My body shivered. I was cold, wet, and naked. Someone handed me a blanket and a mirror. I wrapped myself in the old and worn blanket and took a look at myself in the mirror. I had brown eyes, but they were different somehow. I don't know how they were different. Didn't I always have these eyes? I noticed my brown hair and ran my fingers through it. It was wet but silky and long. I noticed that some of it almost covered my eyes. My hair left my ears exposed, and it ended at the back of my neck. I had a mop-top hair style. But the feeling of having hair seems such a big deal, but I don't know why. What was I in the past? I realized that I can see my ears! What's the big deal if I could see my ears? Was I once blind?

"Welcome to the world, Michelangelo," said the man wearing a suit and glasses.

I instantly turned my head around. His voice sounds scary, and I felt fear inside of me. Why was I so afraid of this man? Who is he? For some reason, the name Michelangelo is the only thing that's truly familiar to me. I know it's my name. Then the word "Mikey" comes to mind. That sounds familiar, too. I also really like the sound of that. I guess this was my nickname, but this man doesn't call me Mikey.

"Who are you?" I ask.

The man's expression is one of surprise. "You do not remember me?"

"No." Listening to the sound of my voice made me realize that I have a surfer's accent, but that realization doesn't give me this feeling of new like everything else has. I guess I always had a surfer's accent.

The man smiled. "Interesting."

Why is that so interesting?

"My name is Agent Bishop, Michelangelo," the man in black said. "I am a secret government agent of the United States, charged with protecting Earth from alien vision and other extraterrestrial threats."

"Oh, okay." Then I saw the robot with the holographic head. I pointed at him. "Who's he?"

"So you don't remember me?" he said in an amazed but pissed off voice.

I shook my head. "No."

"Why I had trouble with you and your…"

"Stockman," Bishop cut him off. Then to me, he said, "This here is Baxter Stockman, my assistant."

Baxter Stockman growled something under his breath. I don't think he likes Bishop…or me. I know who they are now, but where am I? Somewhere in the back in the mind knows where I am, and it's telling me that this is a bad place. That part of my mind is also telling me that these two me are evil and that they did something to me. But what?

Agent Bishop and Baxter Stockman were arguing over something. I think it had to do with either Stockman being pissed that Bishop cut him off or that he was pissed because I couldn't remember him. One of those reasons.

I wanted to know where I was, and where to get some clothes. I'm naked and freezing, and this old blanket isn't good enough. My stomach rumbled. I need some food, and for some reason, I'm in the mood for pizza. I need a nap, too. I'm so tired. And why do I feel this urge to go to New York City? First thing's first. I uh-hummed loudly. That got their attention. "Can someone please tell me where the heck am I?"

Bishop answered for me. He seemed to be the leader of the two. "You are in a secret laboratory in a military base known as Area 51 eighty-three miles northwest of Las Vegas, Nevada."

"Why am I here?"  
>"That reason is classified."<p>

Something in that statement tells me that Bishop holds the key to my lost memories and my past but refuses to tell me. No matter. I'll figure it out somehow. I stomach growled louder, and I shivered. Bishop noticed this and said, "Hmmm, it seems you require food and perhaps rest. That is reasonable enough. After all, it did take a lot of calories and energy to undergo a transformation such as you have gone through." What is he talking about? Bishop didn't explain. "You also need a shower and some clothes." To his four his assistants standing nearby, he said, "You two take Michelangelo to the shower and hose him off. You two find Michelangelo some old clothes and prepare a high calorie meal for him."

Two of the scientists hoisted me up and roughly escorted me to a shower that looks like its main purpose is washing off dangerous chemicals off someone. It wasn't that bad. Anything to get rid of this sticky fluid off me. All they gave me was some soap no shampoo. I managed to lather all over myself furiously to get rid of this liquid. Then I attempted to use it to wash my hair. It wasn't as affective as shampoo, but it worked.

When I finished rinsing off, a third man brought in a towel and a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, white socks, boxers, and sneakers. "Thanks," I said. He nodded and headed off to give me some privacy. I quickly dried myself off and got dressed. When I was done, a fourth man escorted me to the mess hall where there was a meal waiting for me. It was milk and some kind of mystery meat with a lot of fat on it. Even though it looks like it could come alive at any second, it tasted pretty good although I rather have pizza. At least the milk was normal.

Even though I was happy to eat something, I wished I wasn't at the mess hall because everyone kept staring at me like I shouldn't be here or something. They were also whispering something to each other. I'm sure it was about me. I guess from their point of view, it's understandable. I mean, isn't it unusual for a regular, casually dressed teenager to eat among military personnel and scientists all of whom are adults? Yeah, I can't blame them, but I wish they stop looking a t me like that. It makes me feel way too uncomfortable.

When I was done, two scientists entered the mess hall and escorted me to a locked door. One of them took out a key and unlocked it. Inside were a small bed and a table with a lamp. The floors and walls were made of concrete and painted white. I noticed another door on the right side of the room. One of the men noticed my confusion and said, "That's the bathroom."

"Oh, thanks."

"This is where you will be staying," said the same man.

I entered the room, but they stayed out. The other man said, "Under Bishop's orders, we have to lock you in here. You know just in case you escape." That guy closed the door, and I heard the lock turn.

The way he said that almost made me pee in my pants. It was so sinister like he was threatening me with death if I escaped without saying a word. I yawned. I was too tired to dwell on fear. I took off my sneakers and jeans and climbed into bed. The sheets were a little rough, but that was alright. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was fast asleep.

That night I dreamed about an anthropomorphic turtle that looked to be four-years-old with an orange bandana covering his whole head. He was lost in the sewers and crying for his family.


	8. Tests

**Disclaimer: Don't own Ninja T****urtles**

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><p>The next day felt like a sports physical or a doctor's visit. Bishop with the help of Stockman performed some tests on me. Nothing that would qualify as cruel or inhumane just stuff like weighing and measuring my height. I don't mind it really. I am actually learning a little bit of myself. Turns out that I'm five feet two inches. The same as <em>before. <em>Whatever _before _is or was. Bishop uses that word a lot, and every time he uses it, it makes me wonder who (or what) I was. I strain myself to remember, but I can't. It gives me a headache. Still, last night's dream felt so real and vivid like it was more than just a dream but a memory. I felt the emotions that the turtle kid was feeling. Maybe that's just a dream thing. I honestly don't remember the last time I had a dream so how should I know what could happen in a dream? Lately I've been feeling this strange urge to go to New York City. I've had this urge since the day I was "born". Perhaps that city also holds the key to my past.

Okay, now I'm getting off track. I've also learned that I weigh one hundred thirty-five pounds which is forty-five pounds less than _before_. Was I a heavyweight in the past? Maybe I had an awesome six pack with bulging arm and leg muscles and that's why I used to weigh one hundred eighty pounds, but somehow Bishop took that away from me. What a jerk.

According to Bishop, I'm a healthy kid physically, but there's something wrong with me mentally. I think it has to do with my lost memories. That's why I'm getting a PET scan of my brain. I'm suppose to lie down on this bed and stay still, but I keeping moving around/

"Stay still, you little brat," snarls Stockman.

"Sorry, dude, I just can't stay still for too long," I still feel fear for both men, but I don't let that fear show so I put up a brave front with humor. The only way I know how to put up a brave front.

"Damn, you," curses Stockman.

"He had ADHD before his rebirth, Stockman. Apparently that trait still carried on into this form," explained a tired Bishop. What he said gave me some clues to my past. Not only did I have ADHD (and still do), but there was another form of me and that I was reborn, or more like transformed. This is interesting to note so I store it in my empty memory bank.

Finally, with much effort, I began to calm down. Something jabbed me on the arm. I looked around and saw it was a needle. I felt fear at the sight of that needle. Fear and needles. I'm afraid of needles!

"What was that for?" I asked.

Bishop answered. He seems to be the most tolerable of me. "Fluorodeoxyglucose."

It sounds Latin to me. "Okay."

We had to wait awhile for the fluoro-thingy to take effect before I get that PET scan. I started moving around, but the way Stockman glared at me made me want to run if fear. So instead I daydreamed, and I fell into a trance.

_I woke up in a dark tunnel with the sound of running water somewhere nearby. This was familiar. It reminds me of that dream I had. My brain registered that I was in the sewers. A soft sobbing could be heard nearby. I recognized it to be the sobbing of that humanoid turtle. Before my mind could register, my legs raced my body to the source of the crying._

_The noise was getting closer. Pretty soon, it was hear just around the corner. I slowed my pace and peaked around another tunnel entrance and saw a humanoid turtle with sea green skin. He looked to be about four-years-old and had an orange bandana covering his whole head. He was sitting down with his head buried in his knees and arms. He was softly crying._

_I approached him quietly, but he didn't notice me. When I was close enough, I kneeled down and gently put my arm on his shoulder and gently shook him to get his attention. "Hey, little dude," I softly said, "What's wrong?"_

_The turtle shot his head open. I noticed he had brown eyes like mine but only reptilian. They were also puffy from crying, but I could see the terror in them. He was afraid I was gonna hurt him. I felt the terror in me. No, his terror was my terror, and his sadness was my sadness like we were one soul but separate body. I couldn't let his terror or sadness consume me. I had to stay in control. "It's okay," I soothed, "I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna help you. What's your name?"_

_The turtle's eyes lost its terror, and he seemed to trust me now. Poor kid! He seems all alone and sad. "I'm Mikey," he whimpered._

_"Funny," I softly said, "That's my name, too."_

_Mikey's eyes appear to lose it sadness and gained wonder. I felt that he felt that it was funny for a human like me to have the same name as him. He even smiled at this thought, and so did I. But this smile only lasted a few short seconds as he sadly explained his predicament. "I was with my brothers and father, and we were playing in the sewers. Donny won't play with me because I annoyed him too much, and Leo and Raphie were fighting. I felt so left out so I snuck off to go exploring, but I got lost. I'm scared. I miss my brothers and father! I wanna go home now! I don't wanna be alone anymore!"_

_What he said struck a chord in my heart. I can actually relate to this kid. I don't know who I am, but I wanna go back to whatever my home is! I don't wanna be trapped here all alone with people who view me as an experiment. I'm scared at what they might do to me! Who am I? What am I?_

_His panic combined with my panic, and darkness started to creep in. I saw it become a giant hand and grabbed and dragged Mikey into its dark depths. "Mikey!" he shouted, but I couldn't save him. Tears started to pour down. I never felt so a lone or scared in my known life. It hit me that I was afraid of the dark. I cried some more. I don't wanna be alone in the dark. Somebody save me!_

_The darkness rose up and head with glowing red eyes with no irises formed. It smiled as it rushed in to consume me._

I woke up. Hospital lights blurred my vision as I panted from that nightmare. It felt so real. Sweat mixes with some tears. Who was that turtle named Mikey? I only saw him in a dream last night and now in a nightmare. I've never seen him before. I saw Stockman (face is really pissed off like that's the only emotion he feels) burn into my eyes. He looks at me with disgust. He always looks at me like that.

"It's time," Bishop simply stated.

My head was put into that large circle part of the machine. It wasn't that bad. I just had to keep my head there for a while. The only bad part was trying to stay still. I didn't dare try to daydream again. Besides, I think falling asleep would ruin the scan. That's why they don't use anesthetics.

"We're done," Bishop simply stated.

I got up. Then Stockman motioned for two guards to escort me back into my "room". (It may look like a room, but it feels like a jail cell. At least I'm safe there). They basically threw me in there before closing and locking the door. I crawled to my bed and thought about my nightmare. That kid named Mikey. Is he just something my subconscious made up or is he real. Living here taught me that things that may seem impossible are real. If Mikey is real, is he a part of my past? Who is he, and why do I feel what he feels?

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><p>Bishop stared at the results of the PET scan. "Well, he definitely has ADHD." Bishop said to Stockman.<p>

"A cursed psychological disorder," Stockman said in disgust as he remembered trying to get a hyperactive, human Mikey to stay still for the PET scan. "Have you found what you were looking for?"

"Yes, I have. It appears that Michelangelo has a very rare type of amnesia called Dissociative Fugue. It is caused by psychological trauma and is usually temporary and unresolved and therefore Michelangelo's memories may return."

"Do you know how this happened?" Stockman asked.

"Yes. It appears that as the hox genes were transforming Michelangelo's reptilian brain into a human brain, things such as instincts turtles use but humans don't were wiped out. Not only instincts but all things turtle including Michelangelo's memories were wiped out and replaced with human instincts and all things human except for memories," Bishop explained.

"It is said that memories never disappear but are stored in the subconscious," Stockman explained. "Michelangelo's memories may have never been truly wiped out just wiped out from his conscious and stored in his subconscious."

"Yes, that is exactly what has happened, and with this type of amnesia, Michelangelo's memories will eventually return," Bishop said.

"When that happens, what do you plan on doing?" Stockman asked. "You do realize that when Michelangelo discovers the truth, he will try and escape and reunite himself with his family."

"I realize that, Stockman," Bishop said in annoyance, "which is why I cannot let that happen. I have plans for Michelangelo. I cannot let him regain his memories."

"What are those plans?" Stockman asked. He hoped that it will bring immense pain to Michelangelo.

"You'll see," Bishop replied.

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><p><strong>Major thanks to Puldoh who told me about the different types of amnesia. So readers, I have no idea what Bishop's "plans" are, if any of you guys have an idea of what they should be just PM me or state it in your reviews.<strong>


	9. Memories of a Confession

**Okay. This chapter is really short compared to my past chapters, but I wanted to write this one down. I hope you like it. Disclaimer: Don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>Don sat on his office chair by his laptop after another hopeless attempt to find Mikey. He sighed. Every time he thinks he's found a new lead, his hopes have been mercilessly crushed and smashed into little tiny pieces. He could not help but remember a week ago when he thought he had a new lead, but the destruction of his hopes was not only devastating, but the pain in his heart was pure agony, too.<p>

_Don, Leo, and Raph were sitting at the kitchen table while Casey and April stood behind them. They were drinking tea (courtesy of Master Splinter) as they sat in solemnity and frustration, while Casey and April brainstorm ways to find Mikey. Nine months without your brother and no trace of him as left the three older turtles in a near total state of despair as they shot down April and Casey's ideas._

_"Have you checked your laptop for a virus, Don?" April asked, "Maybe, it wasn't Mikey's shell cell that was the problem, but a virus in the system that prevented the signal from showing up."_

_Don placed his hand on his forehead for he felt a migraine coming on. Although he was annoyed at April's persistent questioning, he knew she was only trying to help, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for that. "No, April, I scanned my laptop for viruses, spyware, and any other problems. The scanner said my laptop was working perfectly."_

_"Hey, I got an idea," said Casey. Everyone turned their attention to Casey but honestly didn't expect much. The Turtles have done everything they could think of. All their efforts have failed. However, Casey was still hopeful. "Why don't we investigate Bishop's old lab and wherever he's shown up or have fought you guys for any kind of clue to Mikey's location?"_

_Although Casey's plan didn't sound half bad, Leo said, "We did. We found absolutely nothing."_

_"That's because you three are limited to investigation during nighttime and wherever humans can't see you. If you give us a map, April and I could look where you guys can't" offered Casey._

_Don turned to face Leo. "That could work, Leo."_

_"I guess so, but I doubt anything would show up, but I guess it's worth a try," Leo said. Casey smiled that he was at least to offer some kind of plan or lead to bring Mikey home._

_At this point Master Splinter entered the kitchen. All five noticed this and stood up. Leo was the first one to realize that something was wrong so he asked, "What is it, Master?"_

_Master Splinter bowed his head. "My sons and Miss O'Neil and Mister Jones, I have recently contacted Michelangelo through meditation."_

_Don felt hope bubble up inside of him. If Master Splinter was able to contact Michelangelo, perhaps Mikey has told Master Splinter of his whereabouts and what's happening to him right now. Then Don can use his skills in computers and hacking to find out the exact location. Don looked around and noticed each person's expression. Leo, Casey, and Raph were shocked while April was happy beyond words. Only Master Splinter wore a grave expression on his face._

_Don was the first one to speak up. "What did Mikey say, Master Splinter? Did you find out where he is?"_

_Master Splinter sadly shook his head. He was close to tears, but he had to be strong. Soon his sons were going to need his strength. "It was only for a short period of time, but as I communicated with Michelangelo, it appears that he was losing memory of me, and before I lost contact with him, Michelangelo has lost all memory of me."_

_Don felt every one of his hope shatter like glass on the floor. Then someone took a knife and stabbed his own heart. His own little brother could not remember his father. What are the chances that Mikey couldn't even remember him or any one of his brothers or friends? Mikey may not even remember himself or his past. Of all the times Don felt the pain of despair, this was the worst because it came with the agony of completely losing his brother. _

_Don noticed that Raph was on the verge of screaming in rage. His fists tightened, and his eyes darted to his punching bag. Leo remained his expression of utter shock. Casey was torn between shock and anger, while April looked like she was about to break down in tears._

_Master Splinter bowed his head. "I am sorry."_

That was only a week ago, and the pain has still not left Don. Don was never one to fear rage or hatred for someone else. He tried to follow the examples of Martin Luther King, Jr. and Mohandas Gandhi by using nonviolence to solve problems and always forgiving your enemies, but this took the cake. Don knew Bishop had something to do with Mikey's memory loss, and he wanted to kill Bishop for it. It nearly scared Don that he could feel such intense rage and hatred. He tried to shake off the feelings and replace them with something less destructive. The thought that finding Mikey and keeping him safe as a first priority helped Don helped a little. He should probably talk to Master Splinter about what he was feeling or take a long, soothing bath. Either one could help, but he didn't want to talk to his father unless he knew he couldn't deal with those feelings on his own.

Don took a sip of his coffee and continued his search for his lost brother who was now lost in more than one way.


	10. Fight!

**New Chapter! Debate project is over with! Major thanks to Puldoh, AATC and TMNT Rocks, and multicoloredmango for your ideas. Thanks to your input, I now know what Bishop's plans are Blue Rose Kelly, it's been 16 months (1 year and four months). The first fifteen months are what you have described and the sixteenth month contained the last chapter and this chapter. Btw, cool pen name! Disclaimer: don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>Every day for about a month, it's been the same. I stay in my room until Bishop sends one of his goons to pull me out. Then I undergo a series of tests like DNA testing, brain testing, and stuff like that. Then I am sent back to my room. I don't even get out for meals. Someone brings me food. I don't even know why I have to undergo this crap. What does he want to know?<p>

Not only do I have to undergo all this crap, Bishop has lately been making me do some physical activity. I'm not complaining about doing it. Most of it seems really fun like running (it's my favorite!). It's definitely better than having blood taken from your arm although I hate it when he measures my pulse and heartbeat after I run or do anything active. What I'm complaining about is why he's making me doing it. I know it's not for my own benefit. I may have no memory of him, but this feeling inside my gut says he's the enemy, and right now, my gut is the only source of information I've really got.

Today, something different happened. Bishop pulled me out of my room to the gym (which also serves as a training area for the soldiers). At first I thought he was gonna make me do more push-ups or have me run a few laps. Instead, he gives me two nunchucks with orange tape around them. Although I confused at where this is going (cue in bad feeling), these weapons feel familiar somehow.

_A humanoid, male rat with gray fur and brown robes and opened up a box and handed a pair of wooden nunchucks wrapped with orange tape to his twelve-year-old son – a humanoid, male turtle with sea green skin. Since the turtle and his brothers were eight-years-old, they have practiced with different kinds of weapons, starting with fake ones until moving up to practicing with real ones, before they were ready to specialize in their own kind of weapon._

_"My son," began the rat, "You are agile, athletic, and fast. You will become a quick and agile opponent towards your enemies yet you refuse to take a life. You are given the nunchucks. They are not meant to be fatal, but if the scenario arrives, you can use them to be fatal. I pray that scenario will never come. Even so, the nunchucks compliment your agility and speed." The rat handed the turtle a _pair_ of nunchucks. "Use them well, my son."_

_The turtle looked at his new weapons in awe. The he quickly looked up at his father. He quickly bowed, "Thank you, sensei."_

The memory (I think it's a memory) left me. The rat seems familiar, but why do I keep seeing that turtle? What does he got to do with me? There was no time for answering the questions because Bishop came at me with a roundhouse kick screaming, "Think fast!"

I didn't have time to dodge. It came at me so fast that the next thing I knew, I was sitting on my butt rubbing my cheek. "What the hell?" I screamed.

"Fight me," Bishop said simply and without hesitation.

"I repeat, 'What the hell?'"

"Fight me using your nunchucks."

"But I don't know how to use them!" I practically screamed for my life, but it fell on deaf ears to Bishop because he ran full speed towards me and punched me hard on the cheek.

I lied down in a daze until I manage to get up on my feet. I attempted to use my nunchucks (epic fail!) and tried to stand my ground and fight, but it was hopeless. Bishop kept coming at me with ninja kicks and punches. He was faster and stronger than humanly possible. No matter what I tried to do, I could never touch him. I might as well call it quits.

I attempted to hopelessly and unskillfully swing one of my nunchucks at Bishop's head, but he dodged it and then slammed my body against the wall and pinned me down. "Come on," Bishop nearly spat in my face, "get yourself together and fight me!"

I was too much in daze to really care. I'm pretty sure I have a concussion. What does he expect me to do? I don't know any fighting techniques or anything! I guess making me run and other stuff was all conditioning, but that doesn't teach me how to fight off an opponent who's ten times stronger and faster than me. What the hell am I suppose to do?

Then something clicked inside my brain like some kind of revelation that told me exactly what to do. It came in the form of images of some giant mutated turtle (similar to the one I saw in my dreams and just recently) but much older (like he was a teenager) wielding a pair of nunchucks that look exactly like mine. He was fighting Bishop and had some success at it. Right in that I knew exactly what to do.

"Well?" Bishop practically spat out.

I raised my head, and I smiled an evil grin. Confidence rose in me. I can fight this guy. Using my legs, I kicked him off me, and I spun my nunchucks (epic success!). Just in my confident but evil smile, Bishop knew that I was truly ready.

Bishop lunged at me, and I successfully hit his ribs with the nunchuck in my left hand and kneed him in the ribs. When he bent down, I hit him on the head with my right nunchuck. I backed off as Bishop to get himself together. I smiled at my successful attempt to fight him.

But the success didn't last long because Bishop was getting up. This was my chance. I rushed in and landed a roundhouse kick, but he deflected it with his arms. It was funny. It was funny. As I fought this man, images of that nunchuck wielding turtle fighting Bishop flashed in my mind as if I was watching an exercising video while doing what the people in the video are doing.

The turtle went after him with his nunchucks spinning and so did I, but this got the turtle in trouble because he was caught and strapped down. This got me in trouble because Bishop grabbed my arm and threw me to the ground. The image inside my head showed the turtle kicking Bishop away from him when Bishop wasn't looking. I did the same thing, too, before he attempted to break my wrist.

I got up breathing hard, and the images or memories of the orange clad turtle disappeared. I gotta end this battle before he does. But how? Then I saw a giant net, used for climbing, hanging on the wall. If I could lure Bishop next to that net, and then somehow unhook it from the top, Bishop would become entangled underneath it. Then I could use one of my nunchucks to press the chain up against his throat as if I was going to strangle him. That could work!

I proceeded with my plan, and images of the orange banded turtle fighting returned, but this time, he wasn't just fighting Bishop. Actually, different scenes of him fighting different opponents flashed into my head all working together to instruct me in how to fight using ninjutsu. I ran to the net, and just as I hoped, Bishop chased after me, but before he even got to where I wanted him to be, I disappeared into the shadows and climbed up a rope hidden from view by old gym equipment. Bishop just stood exactly where I wanted him to be looking all around for me.

"Where are, Michelangelo?"

I suppressed a giggle while I balanced on the support structures hanging from the ceiling. I noticed that Bishop stood very still concentrated on even the slightest noise I make. If Bishop's strength and speed were beyond human limitations, what are the chances of his hearing being equivalent to a vampire? Got to be careful. Images of the orange banded turtle balancing on a pipe in the sewers right before he jumps down to save a man with hair like a girl flashed in my head. I follow their instructions. I unhook the net and it falls on Bishop. I gracefully jump down without any injury and pinned down Bishop using one of my nunchucks. I smile. Bishop knows it's over.

"Well done, Michelangelo."

"Thanks." The images cease pouring into my head leaving me with a powerful migraine. I instantly put my hand over my head and groan in pain.

Bishop, now freed by me, frees himself from the net. "What's wrong?" he urgently asks.

I groan some more. "During our battle, images of a mutated turtle wielding nunchucks similar to my poured in my head as if they were showing me how to fight. They're gone now, but it left me with a migraine."

Bishop's face is one of fear. Are these images a bad thing? He says nothing except, "I'll bring you some Tylenol. We're done for now."

Bishop leaves in a hurry while I'm escorted to my room by two guards. Later one of them brings me a water bottle and Tylenol. I take them, but I save the water bottle. When it comes to entertainment, they don't give me anything. Maybe the water bottle could cure my boredom. Right now, I'm too thoughtful to be bored. Bishop looked genially fearful of what I told him. This scares me, too. Is something wrong with me? Or maybe, these images are something that's apart of who I am…or who I was, and Bishop doesn't want me to find out?

I keep pondering this matter until I fall into a deep sleep.

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><p><strong>In a lab somewhere; Third person point of view<strong>

Bishop stares at many PET scans of Mikey's brain as he works furiously to produce a memory blockage drug. Stockman notices this. "So," he asks, "I take it that Michelangelo is starting to gain some memory?"

"Yes, I can't let that happen."

Stockman nods. "I see, and what of the fight? Did Michelangelo pass?"

"He won. Now I can put my plan into action, but first, Michelangelo cannot receive his memory. Once this problem is taken care of, I can proceed with my plan."

"Does it have anything to do with the alien DNA you have collected that's similar to the alien DNA used on your slayers and on you a couple centuries ago?" Stockman asked.

"Yes, it has everything to do with the DNA. Soon, Michelangelo will become my finest soldier."

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><p><strong>More to come. <strong>


	11. Investigation

**New chapter! Disclaimer: don't own this show**

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><p><strong>The Next Day, in NYC<strong>

April stood nearby the entrance of Central Park, freezing her butt off as the winter wind howled and effortlessly tried to torture April with the wind chill factor. It was late November, but it already felt like the middle of December. She was waiting for Casey Jones to meet her here. They were going to follow through on their investigation of where Bishop could have possibly taken Mikey.

April sipped on her hot chocolate. She wished she could start the investigation without her boyfriend, but Casey had the map so April just stood there in the cold. As much as she hated to be outside on this windy, rainy, freezing November day, she would rather suffer this than suffer having her "little brother" missing from her life and the Hamato clan's lives.

Finally, what seemed like thirty minutes more minutes of aerial Chinese water torture, April heard the distinct sounds of a motorcycle, signally Casey's arrival. Casey parked his motorcycle by the curb where April was standing nearby.

"I'm here," Casey happily said as he took off his helmet. Although dressed only in jeans and a sweatshirt, Casey did not mind the cold at all.

However April didn't. "Took you long enough. I had to stand here in the cold for an _hour_, Casey Jones, while you're cruisin' along New York City."

"Sorry, Babe, but traffic was hell," Casey apologized.

April sighed. "Well, you're here. Do you have the map?"

Casey pulled it out of his jeans pocket and waved it in the air. "Right here." Then Casey got off his motorcycle. He put his helmet in his bag which also carried his sports equipment. He opened the map, and he and April studied it for a second.

"Okay," April said, "Their first encounter with Bishop in Central Park. If we just follow this path, we will to an intersection where there is a bench and a light post. That is where the National Guard neutralized them before taking them to Bishop."

"Okay, then. Let's go," said Casey.

It wasn't a long walk, and they found the place. April and Casey immediately went searching for clues. April even brought a metal detector to use. They honestly didn't expect to find anything in Central Park because the Turtles didn't fight Bishop at this location. They fought the National Guard, but the National Guard had a deal with Bishop so they figured it was worth a shot.

Just as expected, nothing came up. April and Casey walked back to where Casey parked his motorcycle. "The next location is the United Nations. That was where Bishop staged an alien invasion and made it look like aliens kidnapped the president. We'll search downtown in general. Then we can search the area where the president was taken to," April said.

"Got it," said Casey as he started up his motorcycle and sped off. The journey would have been much quicker, but as Casey said before, traffic was hell. Luckily, traffic was beginning to wind down.

Finally, they made it. "Hey, Casey, why don't we search the Turtle Bay area separately to cover more ground? I can search the western part of Turtle Bay, and you can search the eastern area. We can meet somewhere and then search by the river," April suggested.

"You sure, April? New York's crazy this time of here. Who knows what could happen."

Even though Casey was only being concerned, April took it as slight offense because Casey couldn't believe that she could take care of herself. "I'll be fine, Casey. I know ninjutsu, and besides, New York is always crazy no matter what season it is. Remember, it's the city that never sleeps."

"Okay, we'll meet at Domino's Pizza. I'll drop you off there." Casey made a right turn at an intersection. About a block away was Domino's Pizza. Casey slowed down to a stop, and April got off. "In an hour, meet me here okay?"

"Sure, Casey, and don't worry. I can take care of myself."

"Okay," said Casey, and then he sped off to the easternmost downtown New York City.

April watched Casey disappear into the New York horizon. Then she took a walk, covering every square inch of the city. She especially searched areas where the Turtles fought man-made aliens. She bent down to inspect further for clues and even used her metal detector, but the only thing she found were some pennies and the occasional dime. April only searched the areas where the Turtles couldn't normally search during the day. They already scaled every inch of the city that's accessible to them night or day.

April even went against her judgment and searched the alleyways. Luckily, it was too cold for any muggers or rapists, but even if it weren't, April was sure she can fend off an unskilled fighter using her skills taught by Master Splinter. (Currently, Master Splinter is teaching April how to use katana swords). Hell have no fury like a woman scorned.

Still just in case, she carries a handgun with her at all times or at least wherever the law permits her. She never told Casey, the Turtles, or anyone about the gun. Even Master Splinter, who has been to her apartment many times to instruct her in the ways of ninjutsu has never seen or even know about her gun.

April continued her search in the alleyway. She searched every shadow, every pebble, and nothing came up. Downtrodden, she climbed up the fire escape to inspect the buildings above. April looked everywhere for some kind of clue to Mikey's location, but nothing came up. She wildly wished that she took a forensics class back in her college days. It could help a lot in her investigation. _Oh well, _she thought as she climbed down the fire escape. She took a walk until she found another building where the Turtles battled on its rooftop. April climbed up the fire escape and repeated her search. Like before, nothing showed up.

April repeated this search pattern, along with searching the streets for another forty-five minutes. Then she checked her watch and realized that she needed to meet Casey at Domino's Pizza.

Casey rode his motorcycle eastward. Although he was worried about April, he had to keep focused on the task at hand. Mikey was missing, and his mission was to search for clues to his best friend's brother's location.

Due to his years of being a hockey masked vigilante, Casey knew every inch of this city and wasn't afraid to enter even the most dangerous parts of it. He ruled New York City. He was the King of the Big Apple. Casey rode to the area where the president was making that big speech. He figured he could start searching there, and then investigate the surrounding buildings, especially the one where the Turtles were watching the president from.

Unfortunately, it was hard to search the location where the president made his speech about the UN due to the impending traffic. When the president visited New York, traffic was blocked. Not today so Casey just rode along the street, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. Nothing showed up. Then Casey parallel parked his motorcycle by the street. He tried to find a fire escape to climb up, and eventually found one, but he had to walk down one block and turn around the corner in order to get to the back of the building.

Casey climbed up the fire escape. Then he inspected the rooftop of the building. He closed his eyes and tried to picture what Leo, Donny, Raph, and Mikey were doing on this rooftop. Imagining that scene helped him in his investigation in trying to thing like his mutant friends, but it didn't help in finding clues. Downtrodden, Casey climbed back down, and inspected the street as he made his way to his motorcycle. Still finding nothing, he climbed back onto his "baby" and drove to some other buildings nearby.

Casey used his technique of imagining his friends during his investigation effort as he scaled buildings and searched streets. He imagined every word, every fight that possibly happened on that day of the hoax invasion. Still nothing came up, but it did give him a sense of fulfillment in finding his friend. Maybe he should be a private detective instead of an athlete or Hollywood star.

Casey laughed in spite of himself. He then realized that he needed to meet April at Domino's Pizza so he hopped back on his motorcycle and sped away to the pizza place.

Casey and April shared a pepperoni pizza as they discussed their findings.

"So did you find anything?" April asked. Her voice was full of tiredness and despair, but there was still hope in her question.

Casey sadly shook his head. "No. You?"

April leaned back in frustration. "Nothing. Not a clue. Not a trace. It's as if Mikey disappeared from the face of the Earth."

"Well, we know he didn't. Bishop took him. We at least know who Mikey's kidnapper is," Casey said.

"Yeah, I guess," April said as she took a bite from her pizza slice. They ate in silence until the pizza was all gone.

"Hey, why don't we order a large pepperoni pizza to go to bring home to the guys. I'm sure it'll cheer them up. We can stop at my place and leave it there as we search some more," Casey suggested.

"Alright," April said. A waitress was walking by. April called out for her. "Excuse me, miss, can we have a large pepperoni pizza to go, please?"

The waitress nodded "yes" and repeated April's order to the cooks from across the counter. Another fifteen minutes, and they had their pizza and the bill. Casey paid the bill, and April carried the pizza as Casey rode his motorcycle to his place. Once there, Casey dug his pockets for his key. Once he found his apartment key, he took the pizza from April and brought it inside his apartment and stuck it in the fridge. Casey immediately got back to April who was waiting patiently on his motorcycle.

"Alright," Casey said as he climbed on board and started up the engine, "Next stop: the river!"

It wasn't that far of a drive. Casey found a nice concealed area to park his motorcycle. The two searched by the river where the Turtles fought Bishop when the president was captured. Both of them scaled every inch of the area where Bishop's remote controlled UFO crashed, but nothing showed up. April and Casey decided to head north to the building where the Turtles last fought Bishop. It was the location of Mikey's capture. April and Casey had the highest hopes of finding clues there.

Once the two reached their destination, they immediately climbed up the fire escape and searched the building. They searched harder than usual because they were so sure that something might turn up. This area was where Mikey was captured. How can there not be any clues? It nearly broke their hearts when nothing turned up. Exhausted, Casey and April sat down. None of them had to say anything. They knew what the other felt.

Finally, Casey made one last desperate suggestion. "Why don't we head over to where Bishop's lab used to be? Maybe we can find something there like secret documents or experiment plans or something."

"Yeah, I guess it's worth a try," April said.

They climbed down the building, and Casey drove to another secret entrance the Turtles told them about after they destroyed the place in an attempt to rescue their sensei. They tried to look casually entering it. The entrance led them to a large room littered with broken glass cylinders obviously meant for producing life and sewage. Busted pipes hung from the ceiling, and it smelled like sewer water. There was evidence of a flood on the floor and wall. The state of the lab didn't surprise Casey and April. They knew that there the Turtles, Master Splinter Leatherhead, and Professor Honeycutt fought a genetically enhanced soldier and destroyed the place in the process. What surprised them was that there were people – Bishop's workers – fixing the place. This was the first discovery of the day! And perhaps it may lead to Mikey's current location.

"Come on," April urgently whispered to Casey. Remembering a similar situation long ago, both used stealth (more like April used stealth while Casey tried to) to maneuver around.

"We need to find an office or a place where they keep records or blueprints or something like that," April said to Casey.

"Got it," Casey said.

Both blindly searched the place looking for some room that could keep important documents. Luckily, security was down and everyone was focused on the cleanup which allowed for April and Casey to move around undetected. Finally, after minutes of searching, Casey stumbled into a room that looked like to be the one. He motioned for April to come, and they entered inside.

"Okay," April said, "search anything that could even remotely lead us to Mikey."

Casey nodded, and he turned down walls and flipped through files while April searched on a computer in the room.

"Hey, Ape, check this out."

April, eyes still focused on the monitor said, "What?"

"There's some files missing here. Think they might have anything to do with Mikey?"

This time April turned around. "Maybe. Before Bishop's escape, Bishop could have taken those files. If that is true, they must have been of great importance to him. Leo did say that Bishop wanted one of them for a very important experiment. Those files could be that experiment. Here." April tossed Casey her cell phone. "Use the camera on my phone to take a picture of the empty space. Make sure you take a picture of the label."

"Got it," Casey said as he tried to figure out how to use April's Smart Phone. Once he found out how to take a picture with it, Casey took two pictures: one of the empty space and the other of the label that said Project Morph.

April continued to search for any virtual file on Mikey. She prayed that Bishop didn't use a flash drive to store what she was looking for. As she was searching, she found a document explaining the Turtles, Master Splinter, and Leatherhead's DNA. With that document, was another document on human DNA, DNA in general, hox genes, and Recombinant DNA. There was nothing explaining why this information was needed or what it was going to be used for, but still it was worth something so April printed out both documents. Unfortunately, she couldn't find anything on Bishop's new location or Mikey.

April showed the documents to Casey. "Check these out. I found this on Bishop's computer. It's about Master Splinter, the Turtles, and Leatherhead's DNA. It goes into real depth about the mutagen affecting their DNA code. This document explains human DNA and DNA in general. It also talks about hox genes and Recombinant DNA and their uses. This might be useful to the guys."

"Uh, okay, but what are hox genes and Recombinant DNA?" Casey asked.

April explained. "Hox genes determine your body structure while you are developing in your mother's womb, and Recombinant DNA, or rDNA are DNA sequences that result from the use of laboratory methods to bring together genetic material from multiple sources and creating a whole new DNA sequence not found in other organisms. Now the question is why would Bishop want to know about hox genes and rDNA?"

"Who knows, but – " Before Casey could even finish his sentence, three men were at the doorway.

"Stop what you are doing!" shouted the leader.

April and Casey just looked at each other before proceeding to attack – April using her ninja skills and Casey using sports equipment as weapons and doing street fighting. The men were just biohazard cleanup crew, and therefore were easy to defeat. "Come on! Let's get outta here!" April shouted.

"Right behind you, Babe!" Casey shouted as he followed April.

So far, their presence has not been made public, but pretty soon it will be. Even if that was the case, there were no soldiers around. No one expected anyone to show up to this place looking for something. Casey and April ran to where they first entered from and managed to escape before word got out. They quickly mounted the motorcycle and sped as fast as they can to Casey's apartment.

Once they got there, Casey parked his bike and quickly ran inside to get the pizza. Then April and Casey took a walk to the nearest manhole covering where they slipped inside and ran to the Lair.

Once there, they were instantly met by Leo, Don, and Raph who were anxious to know if they found anything. April and Casey were so bombarded with questions that Master Splinter had to tell his sons to calm down.

"Come, my sons, Miss O'Neil and Mister Jones has brought dinner for us. Let us settle into the kitchen to eat, and afterwards we will discuss news of their investigation."

The three brothers were reluctant but followed there Master's orders. They head to the kitchen and set up the table. April heated up the pizza while Casey found some soda and poured in drinks for everyone. Everyone ate in silence. It was only when dinner was over and the dishes have been washed, everyone gathered in the living room and talked.

"So, April, Casey," Leo asked, "Did you find anything?"

April spoke first. "We searched Central Park, Turtle Bay, the docks, and finally where Mikey was captured. We found absolutely nothing. Then we searched Bishop's old laboratory and discovered some biohazard cleanup men cleaning up the place and fixing it up."

"Hmmm," Leo hummed as he thought. "It could be that Bishop plans to work there again. That would be normal and only natural that he would hire some people to fix the place. Anything else?"

"Yes," April said and took out the documents and her Smart Phone. She searched for the pictures Casey took and showed them to Don. "We found a room containing many files. Casey found a shelf that seemed to be missing something called Project Morph."

"Bishop might have taken them with him or disposed them. I don't know what Project Morph is, but it could be useful in determining what Bishop wanted Mikey for. Did you find any information on Project Morph, April?" Don asked.

"No, but I did find these two documents saved on a computer. I printed them out. You might want to take a look at them." April handed Don the documents.

As Don took a look at them, Leo and Raph scooted closer and read over Don's shoulders, but while Don could understand every word of it, the only thing Raph and Leo got was their father's name, Leatherhead's name, and turtles. Then Don spoke. "These are documents about our DNA and Leatherhead's DNA, human DNA and DNA in general, hox genes, and rDNA."

"What are hox genes and rDNA anyway?" Raph asked.

"Hox genes are genes that determine body position and placement in the embryonic stage and in the pupae stage. RDNA, or Recombinant DNA are DNA that's made by taking DNA from multiple sources and turning it into a unique segment of DNA. It is often used for molecular cloning," Don explained.

"My question is that do they have anything to do with Mikey and Bishop's experiment," said April.

"Maybe," Don said, "but I'm more curious in whether they have to do the missing Project Morph."

"Who knows," said April, "but you guys said Bishop wanted one of you for a very important experiment. Project Morph could be that experiment, and those documents just give some background information."

"That could be, but we don't even know what Project Morph is, or if they really have any connection to Mikey. Still, this is very newsworthy to us, April. Thank you both," said Don.

"No problem," Casey said.

The two got up. "April, Casey, how about you spend the night here? You guys must be exhausted," Leo offered.

"Thanks, Leo," April said. "Oh, Don, tomorrow, I'll print out those two pictures and e-mail them to you."

"That would be great, April. Thanks," said a tired Don.

Raph and Leo got some spare blankets and made the couch and armchair suitable for sleeping while April and Casey took a shower. Afterwards, they all said their goodnights and slept the night away, dreaming about being reunited with their lost family member.

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><p><strong>What do you think? I wished I remembered learning about rDNA when writing Chapter 3. That would have been a vital part of the transformation process. Just pretend it was used. Okay, btw, Turtle Bay is a neighborhood in Manhatten where the UN building is located. As for owning a gun in New York? You can purchase and posses a handgun as long as you have a valid Pistol License issued by a county or major city within New York State. In New York City, you need to prove that you need a greater amount of protection than the average citizen in order to carry a gun with you. Otherwise, you have to leave the gun home. April owns a antique shop and has poven to the New York Police Department that because she owns a shop of valuables and sometimes drives to other places to obtain something of valuable for her shop, which could make her a target of theft, she is allowed an Unrestricted Concealed Carry License. Because the law only allows the carrying of it at her home and business, April had to obtain special permission to carry her gun outside of her property (but on a stricly limited, NYPD pre-approved schedule). New York City is super strict about there gun laws. I did a debate about keeping guns legal for US citizens, and it has opened my eyes about guns. I think New York City needs to lay off on their rules. It seems as though you're virtually not allowed to defend yourself like for example, you're not allowed to keep your handgun loaded at home. If someone breaks into your house and threatens to kill you, you're not gonna have enough time to load it up. <strong>


	12. Stripped Away

**Short chapter but hopefully super heartwrenching. I need to foucus on Mikey more before I write something big for him. Disclaimer: don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>It's been a week since I've been out of my room. I've been left alone to myself in here. The only time I'm visited is when someone brings me food, but they don't stick around for long. Truthfully, I don't mind. It gives me time to think about what happened during that fight with Bishop. At first, I had no idea what to do, but when some kind of images of that giant, anthropomorphic turtle, I knew exactly what to do. And there's more. Ever since I was "born" here, I've been unsure of who I am. I felt vulnerable and insecure inside, but when I received those images of that turtle, I felt sure of myself like I knew who I was. It's funny. When I had that dream about a turtle similar to him but younger (I'm pretty sure that they're the same turtle) I didn't have that feeling of sureness. Also, when I held those nunchucks an image of a humanoid rat and that orange banded turtle appeared to me. Did I own those nunchucks before? They felt familiar and important to me, but I never seen them in my life. Who was that rat?<p>

Who was that turtle? I remember I was daydreaming, and I had this weird dream of me meeting that 4-year-old turtle. He said his name was Mikey just like mine. Hold on. He said it was Mikey. That's just a nickname. It could be short for Michael. If that's the case, then we don't share the same name just the nickname. Still, who is he? What does he have to do with me? I wish I had more images of him. Not only I could find out more, but I can feel that sureness sweep through my gut. When I don't receive those images, I don't feel like I know who I am. I need that feeling of identity again. It's starting to become like a drug.

What worries me more is how Bishop reacted when I told him about those images. His face was white and fear stricken. I'm starting to worry about what's happening with my head. Could what I am receiving be some kind of hallucination created from the insanity and screwed-up part of my brain? If that's the case, Bishop might be afraid that my mind could suffer some kind of mental breakdown or whatnot. Either way, I still crave more of those images like a drug. Maybe that's why Bishop is so worried. He's afraid that I will develop some kind of image addiction with the symptoms much like a drug addiction.

Whatever. I just hope he doesn't get rid of them. I never felt so sure of myself. It's like I found my identity after losing it forever. I want that feeling again. I need that feeling. Maybe if I just try and concentrate, I can get that feeling again and more images. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to concentrate hard. Nothing. I can't concentrate long enough. To make matters worse, I can't sit still long enough. I have to move every so often. I wish I had more space to do something. The empty water bottle at least gives me some form of entertainment.

The lock begins to turn, and my head whips around to the door. Bishop, Stockman, and two guards stand there at the threshold. Bad feeling is in my gut. This isn't good. Bishop motions something to the two guards, and they grab me and escort me to some faraway room.

As soon as I cross the threshold of the new room, familiarity washes over me, but at the same time fear. The room was white. On the right, there was a table with four cabinets and nine drawers holding God knows what. Next to it was a table with six straps (three on each side) attach to it. Behind the table was some kind of machine that had tubes connected to it. At the end of the tubes were needles. I had no idea what this room was for, but it felt familiar and scary. I kicked and screamed trying to free myself. I succeeded and attempted to run out the door, but Stockman caught me. He used his metal arm and took a swipe at my cheek so hard; I nearly flew across the room.

"Shut it, you worthless piece of trash," Stockman spat out. His words had an extra coat of venom. I tried to get up, but I was groaning in pain. Bishop and his guards did nothing. They didn't even care. Stockman, with that creeping sound of metal scraping metal, slowly walked towards me. He picked me up by the arm, and shoved my face into his holographic face that now looked like a scene from an R-rated movie. "Now listen, brat, if you keep resisting and don't shut up, I have no choice but to _terminate _you. Now stop screaming!" My mouth was shut. Stockman smiled an evil smile, and to Bishop he said, "He's all yours, Bishop."

Bishop nodded, and in a totally unfazed and emotionless voice he said, "Bring him here, Stockman."

He continued to hold onto my arm as he walked over to the table. He practically threw me on it, and Bishop strapped me down. Then he attached the tubes with needles to my head. My heart was thumbing hard. This feels so familiar. Fear of the unknown inside me. Not waking up for a long time. I remember this! I remember this! But what happened to me when all that occurred?

Then Bishop pulled out a plastic bag filled with some kind of thick, clear liquid. "This will prevent you from receiving those images again." Then he poured the liquid into the machine.

No images mean no beautiful feeling of self-sureness. No feeling of who I am. I'll be stuck with an empty pit inside of me and a void mind. I can't let that happen, but I can't escape. But I can yell. "No! No! No! I don't want that!"

Stockman's face was twisted with anger. Bishop was annoyed, and the two guards had no expression. Stockman kept yelling at me to shut up. I didn't. Then Bishop used a handkerchief or something to gag me. I can't speak. I'm gonna lose my only source of identity. The drug spreads through my brain like some kind of force pushing back another force from my subconscious. It can't get rid of the foreign ones that I have already received, but it can prevent new ones from resurfacing. No! I don't want this! I try to force my mind to push back, but it doesn't work. The force from the drug stops, and a barrier is built. I've lost.

Bishop unhooks me. In a sick, cruel way, Stockman says to me, "See? It wasn't so bad." No. It was horrible. The two guards practically drag me back to my room and throw me in.

I lay where I was thrown with tears in my eyes. Now I will never feel that feeling of identity, of knowing who I am. It's gone. Forcibly taken from me, and it's not comin' back. I start to softly cry. Some strange part of me that even I don't even know just died. I regret telling Bishop of those images. I got up and drag myself to bed and cry myself to sleep.

I might as well be mourning for my own death.


	13. Dead End

**New Chapter! And summer vacation is in 2 days! Dislcaimer: don't own Ninja Turtles. (I hope you enjoy the ending of this chapter)**

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><p>Don observed the evidence April had given him two days ago. Feeding the words to his mind and burning images onto his brain until they leave a mark. The pictures weren't much help. One just showed the contrast of the empty shelf and the filled shelves. The other one showed the name of the missing file. He did use a magnifying glass to see if he could find any small pieces of evidence in the pictures but to no avail. He decided to leave the pictures alone. They weren't very useful now.<p>

The documents were interesting. Even though Don's interests were mostly technological, he couldn't help but wonder at the universal molecular code and its mysteries. As he read the paper, he knew Bishop showed a very keen interest in their DNA, but this paper also talked about hox genes and recombinant DNA. Don knew that rDNA is used in molecular cloning and frequently, too. He wasn't surprised that Bishop showed an interest to rDNA. Chances are that Bishop used rDNA to create those slayers he and his brothers fought against awhile back.

Then Don started to wonder. Bishop did use their father's DNA in the creation of Bishop's slayers. Master Splinter's name is even mentioned in there. Could these documents and Project Morph be in relation to the creation of Bishop's slavers? In secret military operations, the missions were given a codename that had nothing to do with the operation to avoid enemies from finding out. Perhaps the name Project Morph has nothing to do with the morphing of something but is just some random name given to a top secret project to avoid detection. That was the way with the Manhattan Project, wasn't it?

Don's heart sank. He couldn't find any connection to Mikey, and most likely, there wasn't any specific one. After all, Bishop was a fanatic with their DNA along with Master Splinter's and Leatherhead's DNA. Bishop also used his DNA along with mutant rat's DNA and (and possibly used hox gene) turned them into rDNA to create a slayer. Project Morph might have been the name of this genetically engineering project or could be just some old experiment. If Don had more information, especially involving Mikey, maybe he could find a connection, but for now, there wasn't any.

Someone knocked on the door. "It's me." It was Leo.

Don answered, "Come in."

Leo entered. "How's it coming along?"

Don shook his head. "Not good. I can't determine a connection to what April has given us to Mikey. Actually, I doubt there's any connection at all. It probably has more to do with those slayers Bishop created than with Mikey. Maybe if I had more information, I could find out more, but I don't."

Don slumped in his office chair with the most dejected look Leo has ever seen. Leo knew what Don was feeling. Don felt like a failure. Leo understood that feeling all too well. Leo tried to lift Don's spirits. "Maybe you can hack into Bishop's computer and look for more information."

Don looked up into Leo's brown eyes. "I can't, Leo, well, at least not the normal way. This is Bishop we're talking about. He's in charge of a government classified organization. I can't just Google him and then hack his computer from his website. I need to hook up my laptop to a computer of his, and then hack into it. And hacking into it will require breaking through super strong firewalls and other secretive, military, computer protection software. It's not easy."

"But April got onto a computer in Bishop's old lab so easily," Leo said.

"I know, and that surprises me. It probably had to do with the fact that it was a old, household computer. Something an office secretary or bookkeeper might have used when they worked there before it was destroyed," Don said.

"Could you hack into it?" Leo asked.

"Yeah, but April's looked through every file saved their, and she said that there was nothing about Mikey or anything remotely related to us, and besides, it's an old, unprotected household computer. If there was anything about Mikey specifically, it would be saved under some kind of supercomputer Bishop has, but we destroyed the lab along with the supercomputer so I can't hack into it," Don explained.

"Oh, okay," Leo simply said. So much for getting Don's hopes up. Leo just watched Don searching through the documents again as if he was expecting the answer to magically appear. Leo was sure Don hoped for that to happen, and he was not the only one. Leo continued to watch Don for five more minutes before leaving.

Leo left without a word, and Don didn't seem to care. Leo retreated into his room and lit some candles and spread some incense. He got into a meditation position and began to meditate for Mikey's presence. Master Splinter has been meditating much more constantly these days but having no such luck. Maybe Leo could get lucky.

Leo calmed his mind and focused on his little brother's presence. He shuffled through his other two little brothers' presence and tried to find the youngest one. His mind was met with a presence that felt foreign and yet familiar at the same time.

Two opposite feelings contradicting each other was strange to Leo, but because of this strangeness, he focused in on the source. After all, when Splinter found Mikey on the astral plane, Mikey lost memory of his own father. So yeah, Mikey's presence might have a different feel now. Leo kept focusing, hopefully to break free and talk to whoever this presence belonged to. Hopefully, it belongs to Mikey.

Then something beautiful and amazing happened. Leo's presence and the other presence were suspended in air. They made no contact or any sign of recognition, but the two presences were together floating. A feeling of warmth overcame Leo. This felt good. Leo wanted more so he tried to "float" closer to the stranger's presence and merge together so communication can take place. It seemed that the other presence made no attempt to cut off contact. In fact, it seemed to want Leo to come closer. Just as about Leo was about to "touch" the stranger, a giant invisible force field shot up between the two. Leo's presence was thrust away from the other presence. He heard a faint sobbing coming from the other presence just right before he was kicked awake.

Leo blinked. He did not expect that phenomenon to occur. He could not help but think back to the feeling of being suspended in air with that foreign but familiar presence. It could be his imagination, but the faint sobbing he had heard sounded a little like Mikey when he cried. Could that presence be his lost little brother?

Leo got up and blew the candles. He wouldn't tell his family about this unless he was sure it was Mikey. Better not to raise their hope only to have them crash down and burn into an oblivion.

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><p><strong>Did you like it?<strong>


	14. Training

**Finally! Chapter 14 is up! I wasn't sure where to go with this chapter which is why updating was so slow. Finally, I stuck to my original plan. I hope you love it as much as the last chapter. So many reviewers loved Ch. 13. Diclaimer: don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>My tears eventually dried up as I entered into a deep sleep. In this place, sleep seems to be the best thing. Sleep suspends the harsh reality I have to deal with from Stockman's abuse to Bishop's tests and most importantly, the Memory Blockage Drug. In sleep, I'm in my own world safe from those two. I'm in the REM stage of sleep where the subconscious takes over while the consciousness takes a break and finally rests its "mind". In this night, my subconscious <em>really <em>took over. I felt like I was suspended in air and floating. The weird and hard-to-explain thing was that it wasn't _me _as in body, shape, and form, and all; it like an invisible aura without a body or something.

I, or my aura, was floating in the darkness towards the center of this dark place. Then some other aura that's like mine in the fact that it's invisible and has no physical form although it feels different. It feels serious, morally strong, overprotective, and almost fatherly. More importantly, it feels familiar somehow. I liked the feeling of this aura. I felt safe for some reason, and in the core of my aura, a deep affection and love for this stranger aura grew. I did not wonder why I had this love and affection. I just accepted it.

To my delight, the other aura floated closer towards me. As it began to get closer and closer, some force with in my mind was beginning to bud and grow. As the aura's distance from me decreased, the force grew even more until it was trying to break through the barrier the drug created. I could feel in trying to burst with great anticipation. The aura was almost touching me, and the memory started to crack the wall. Excitement bubbled in my stomach. The wall was going to crack! My mind will be free, and I will have my images! Not only that, but this aura is so close from touching me!

Just when the aura was a millimeter away from me and the images were a crack away from bursting, a wall shot up between me and the other aura. The sudden energy made by the wall shooting up cause the other aura to be thrown far away from me. The images that were about to burst have been trapped by the new wall. I began to cry. It got worse when the other aura disappeared.

Then I woke up.

Despite it being probably around three in the morning, I couldn't sleep. Was that a dream, or something else? What was that aura? It felt so familiar, and yet, I never seen it or felt it before. I had this deep love and affection for it, but I don't know who the owner of that aura is. That is if that wasn't a dream. Still, it felt so real life someone entered my head or something. Is that even possible?

It couldn't have been a dream. The images that were blocked from my mind were somehow triggered by that aura and started to attempt to break the barrier. They almost did until the drug created a new wall. I remember feeling so excited that I was going to get those images back which also means that I was going to get that feeling of self-sureness back. Not only that, but I was also excited that the aura was going to touch me. For some reason, that was a really good thing. Probably because I held some deep love and affection for it for some God known reason and that aura made me feel safe. Something I haven't been really feeling around here lately. Then that wall took all that away from me, stripped away the only source of identity and love I have. That drug is trying to break me.

Finally, I was able to go back to sleep. I hope that aura will visit me again.

I slept peacefully without any dreams or visitations from that aura. However, when it was time for me to wake up, I was fighting to stay asleep. I lost some vital minutes of sleep when I woke up from that strange dream. I want those minutes back. Unfortunately, I don't have a say here so I was forced out of bed by two guards who watched me as I ate my oatmeal they brought in, making sure I don't get back to bed.

They stared down at me like I'm some kind of caged animal. I stare back. It seems like for some reason, I'm not welcome here. I have no humanity here. If I could, I would escape, but I don't have any means to escape. Besides, I'm fed three square meals a day and given fresh water and a place to sleep. It's just miles and miles of desert outside. If I escape, I'm a goner. When the situation becomes really drastic, I'll make my escape through the ventilation system in my room. I have been forming an emergency escape plan just in case anything happens to me.

When I was finished, they took my bowl away and threw me some kind of pimped up black, footie pajamas except instead of built in socks, it was built in shoes. When I inspected it more closely, I realized it was made out of some extremely flexible but harder than steel metal. I don't think there's any metal like the one on this suit.

"Get dressed," snarled one of the guards, and then they left. I stripped myself from the clothes I was wearing (minus the boxer shorts) and tried to find a zipper on this thing. Turns out that the zipper was on the back, and I slipped my body into this. It actually wasn't so bad although I rather be wearing my T-shirt and jeans. Inside the jump suit felt like spandex instead of cold metal. I just wish Bishop brought me a new pair of boxer shorts wearing the same underwear for a month and a half can get really uncomfortable. I wouldn't be surprised if I get Toxic Shock Syndrome.

Soon the guards came back and escorted me to the gym where Bishop was waiting. I wonder if I have to fight him again. Bishop motions the guards to leave us, leaving me out in the open.

"Do you know why you're here, Michelangelo?" Bishop asks in that ominous voice of his.

"No," I simply state. That's the rule around here. Just answer questions in the most simplified way as possible and don't speak otherwise. It will save you trouble in the long run.

"You're here because I am most impressed with your fighting skills, and I have decided to train you."

I don't say anything, afraid of where this is going.

"I see you are wearing the new battle suit Stockman has designed," Bishop says.

I still don't say anything.

Bishop continues. "For now on, you will wear this during battle and during our training. The flexibility of the metal will allow you to move with ease. The metal is also a combination of Titanium and the material used in hard-plate bullet proof vests so you are not only protected from bullets of various types but from knives, swords, and other similar weapons. Now let's get started."

He threw me those nunchucks I had used against him a week ago. To my dismay, I received no images this time around. Darn. I miss seeing that orange banded turtle. Today began as a simple sparring match with the exception of Bishop barking various commands at me.

"Watch your back!"

"Focus, Michelangelo!"

"Make your kicks more powerful, your jumps faster!"

And on and on to the point I was completely exhausted. I swear that guy ain't human. Actually, what I see around here, there's good chance he ain't. Whatever. At least he stopped with the physical training. However, he wasn't so happy with the way things turned out.

His eyes bore into mine as I lay, sprawled out on the ground. I gave a sheepish smile. Bishop didn't smile back. "That was pathetic. You will get yourself killed. We need to condition you first before I put you on phase two of your training."

I groan. "What's phase two?"

"You will find out soon enough. That is, if you can be whipped up into good condition first." No one tells me anything around here. What's up with all the secrets? Why won't anyone tell me anything? I wish I wasn't kept under lock-and-key. Then I could find out more about myself. When I do get out, I'm heavily guarded so sneaking off to snoop through heavily classified files is out of the picture.

"Get up!" Bishop barks out like a large dog. I manage to follow his order. And to my luck, it's weapons training now. In other words, no more physical activity! "Follow me," says Bishop in a softer tone, and I follow him out of the gym, down the hallway, and into another large room which I have never seen before, but I have a guess it has to do with guns because there are targets on the wall and a metal shelf with a glass case with rows and rows of all types of guns under lock and key.

Bishop opens the one of the very large suitcases and pulls out a big ass weapon with a picture of a triangle on the muzzle. Then he begins to explain. "Throughout my years of dealing with aliens, I have collected many different types of alien weapons. This one hear is a Triceraton Laser Rifle. Instead of bullets, it uses lasers powered by a crystal found on the Triceraton Home World and an internal light source. To work it, shift this gear to unlock the safely lock here, and then press the trigger to shoot. In order to use it, you place the" He handed me the gun. "Here, try aiming for that target over there. Don't worry about destroying the wall. The walls in the shooting room are made to withstand bullets, lasers, and all sorts of weaponry."

The gun was so heavy that I barely managed to hoist the stock of the gun onto my left shoulder. Once I managed that part, I unlocked the safety trigger and pressed the trigger, but my aim was completely off. I try to adjust my aim, but I nearly fell backwards.

Bishop took away the gun, locked the safety lock, and put the gun back in the shelf. "It's too heavy." Bishop locked the glass case, and then unlocked another case. He pulled out another gun. "Here, this is an M-16 rifle used by the United States Military. Press the butt of the gun against your shoulder and pull the trigger."

He gave me the rifle, and I gave it a try. It was a relief to my shoulder and arm muscles to use a lighter gun. I aimed for the target, and I got a bull's eye. I tried again and got it again. In fact, nine out of ten times, I got' a bull's eye. Bishop smiled. "It appears you have good aim when dealing with relatively lightweight guns. Let's try some more that are similar to the M-16 rifle's weight."

So we did. I tried out everything from guns used by humans in the military to different kinds of militaristic alien guns. All were either slightly heavier or slightly lighter than the M-16, and each time, my aim was mostly accurate.

"That is enough target practice for now. Your aim is good. My hope for you is that your aim will still be good when you are moving around in battle. Your training is concluded for today. By the way, have you received any more of those 'images' since you were given that drug?"

I lowered my head. "No," I said sadly.

"Good," said Bishop as if he enjoyed taking my only sense of identity and self-sureness. I felt rage and hatred for him at this very moment, but I don't let my face show it.

As if on cue, two guards show up to take me away to my room. Those guards must have some weird telepathic connection with Bishop. They always show up without Bishop ordering them to on his portable walkie talkie.

They escort me to my room, and as usual, nearly throw me in there before locking the door. I really hate them and any guard that works in the building. They treat me as if I'm dirt. They look at me as if I'm a disgusting insect, and they're too rough with me. I'm sure half of them wouldn't mind seeing me in severe pain. I bet it would give them pleasure from there mundane lives.

I get changed into what I usually wear. Later, a guard brings me my dinner, and I ate it hungrily. I'm starved! I never have been so starved in my whole, entire remembered life. Once the tray was collected by the guard, I took off my jeans and sneakers and got into bed. I was asleep as soon as my head hi the pillow. A combination of training and staying up late last night made me extremely tired. However, I could not shake off this feeling that this training is something I should avoid at all costs. And I will soon find out why.

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><p><strong>What do you think? I wasn't sure what to do with it so I hope you enjoyed reading it.<strong>


	15. Discovery

**Hello! I am back with another update. I hope you enjoy! Discalimer: don't own the show or comics**

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><p>Training went on for every day for months, and each day it grew progressively difficult. My moves were becoming much better, and my aim is so much better. I can use a gun effortlessly while I'm battling. I am also skilled in using nunchucks but that just came naturally to me. Still, I am kept in the dark for the reason of my training. I remember when I first started, Bishop said something about Phase Two of my training. All I know that I am still in Phase One, and I have no idea what Phase Two is, but according to Bishop, it's coming soon.<p>

I don't mind the training so much. It feels so good to know how to defend yourself in a scary place like this, especially a place containing Stockman. I bet if Stockman wasn't being watched by Bishop so closely and if he was human, Stockman would try to whip my ass any chance he gets. He hates me, and I don't know why. At least Bishop seems to like me, or at least doesn't look like he wants to kill me. Still, I sleep better at night knowing I have a way to defend myself although the bad feeling in my gut has never left me. I think it has something to do with Phase Two.

The worst thing is that I have to receive that drug every week. Lately, I've been fighting back, using all my skills I've learned from Bishop. This has gotten me Tased many times before. They can't tranquilize me for fear that it could interrupt the drug. Still, I always put up a fight no matter how much being Tased can hurt. Unfortunately, they always win. Once they had to call for backup.

It was another day of training in the gym when Stockman paged for Bishop on Bishop's walkie talkie. I heard it was something urgent. I guess having no choice but to go to Stockman, Bishop turned around to me, and said, "Stay here and keep practicing your moves." Then Bishop left.

Surprisingly, Bishop left me unguarded, and the door was still unlocked. I guess he must trust me not to escape or something. I practiced my katas (as he calls them) for at least an hour. Bishop did not show up. I ceased practicing (there's only so much training one can do) and sat down to take a break and wait for Bishop. Hours past and still no sign of Bishop. I grew increasingly bored. What is taking him so long? What does Stockman want?

The little voice inside my head told me that this has something to do with Phase Two, and I should go and investigate for my sake. This could end up saving my life. Not wanting to not listen to my little voice (that and because I was bored), I slipped out of the gym to the lab I knew where Stockman was currently working at. This could be a good time to work on my ninja stealth. That way I could say I was going beyond the call of duty when it came to training although I doubt Bishop would believe that.

It wasn't that far away. All I had to do was take the elevator to the floor above me and stealthily walk down the hallway until I came to the first room on the right while trying to avoid all the security cameras. Once I found the laboratory, I stayed very close to the door and heard Stockman and Bishop talking.

"Is the alien DNA done being prepared?" Bishop asked.

"Yes it is. Once we insert it into Michelangelo and activate it, he will be just as strong and fast as you. Although wouldn't it have been easier to insert it into him right before he transformed into a human?" Stockman explained. He didn't realize it, but I just gained a valuable clue of my existence. I wasn't always human. Now the question is what was I before?

"It would have been easier, but I haven't thought of it then. My original plan was to see if it's possible to transform different species of _animals_ into humans." Bishop slurred the word "animals" as if he was disgusted by the very word. What was I? Maybe it's his insult for aliens because I know that guy hates aliens with a burning passion. Maybe I was an alien before I became a human. That could explain the weird images. I listened even more closely. "Apparently, it has worked, but I couldn't just keep him locked up here forever so an idea came to my mind. I decided to make him into my perfect weapon. I will train him into a fine soldier and insert alien DNA to make him more powerful and stronger. The process should be so much easier since I only want qualities such as super speed and strength not become a whole new species. Anyway, once this is all complete, I will have him brainwashed so he will never refuse orders, rebel, and obey without question. He will become my ultimate soldier!"

They said more, but I could no longer hear. All my senses – including my sense of hearing – went completely and utterly numb. I felt absolutely nothing inside as I stumbled across the hallway to the elevator and back to the gym before Bishop would even notice I was gone. I collapsed on the floor. I always wanted to know why I was here. Now I know. And all I feel is nothing. Absolutely nothing but one thing: I can't let this happen!

Bishop came back in a few minutes later. He said something about training being done for today. I could barely hear. The numbness claimed my hearing. Two guards escorted me – no practically held me up and dragged me – back to my room. My legs can barely work. I don't know where's up or down, north, south, east, or west anymore. That's how numb I am. Numb and cold.

I changed into my regular clothes, and another hour, I was brought my dinner. No one noticed that I temporarily escaped the gym or that I overheard Bishop's and Stockman's evil plans for me. When my dinner tray was taken away, I lied on my bed and stared at the ceiling. The numbness was retreating but that left me with pure terror. I was truly going to lose my free will, and I thought that drug was bad enough. But this! This is even worse. I don't even know if those images are memories or not, but I know my free will is true to heart. I can't let it be stripped away from me like my images. I knew I had my answer.

I always dreamed of escape but knew I knew I couldn't survive in a dessert. I won't reach civilization for days at least that is if I make it at all. But the very thought of death in the desert seemed more appealing and even as an escape for freedom than staying here and having alien DNA injected in me and my sense of free will forcefully taken away so whether I survive the desert or die in it, it's a win-win situation for me. Still, I have to try and survive. I still have that empty water bottle. I can fill it up with water from the bathroom. I can survive longer without food than without water. I can always try and hunt something to eat. Water will be nearly impossible to find. I don't have any weapons. All my weapons must stay in the shooting room or in the gym, and even those are kept under lock and key. Breaking the glass will alert the guards. I can't have that.

I fill up my water bottle and spread water all over my face. I can't take anything else with me. It could slow me down, and I don't have a backpack to carry my stuff. I'm definitely not taking the suit. It's all black. I'll just die of heat stroke, and besides I plan on making it to civilization and blend in. That thing on me will scream "I don't belong here! Bishop, it's me Mikey! Come and get me!" I can't have that. It's also the perfect chance to find out who I am. For the longest time I can remember, I had this feeling to go back to New York City. I think I can find out the answers to my questions. If I survive the desert, I will head there. I don't know how, but I'll figure it out once I get to the nearest town or city.

I put the water bottle in my jeans pocket. Time to put my emergency plan into action. Terror left me and an adrenaline rush poured in like a tidal wave. The vent was on the wall, a few inches from the floor. It was big enough for me to barely fit into and crawl but luckily I'm not claustrophobic, or at least, I don't think I am. When I inspected the vent, I noticed that the nails were loose, loose enough to pull them out and take out the vent. I did just that. I crawled right in. There was no room to turn around. If I could, I would put the vent back in. Hopefully, no one enters my room till tomorrow. I blindly crawled around, hoping to find the desired exit – vent leading outside – I knew existed. Good thing no one saw a reason to put security cameras in the ventilation system or else I'd be screwed.

Finally, after many twists, turns, and crawling backwards at least twice, I found the vent. Now it was time to use my ninja skills Bishop taught me and kick it open. I inspected the outside for security guards and to my relief, there are none. The universe is working with me! I went from crawling position to flat-on-my-stomach position. I rolled over and kicked the vent several times. Each time scrunching my face and waiting for a few seconds to see if anyone will come and expose me. None of that happened. My tenth attempt was the successful one. I scooted out of the ventilation system. Now I'm out of the building and into the cool desert air. I'm not done yet. There is still a ten foot tall barbed wire fence separating me from freedom. Luckily, I'm on the far side of the area where there were barely any to no guards or security system. I inspected the barbed wire fence and to my dismay, I couldn't simply climb over it unless I want to be cut to bits. However, a small animal must have been digging a hole under the fence. It was small but big enough for me to squeeze my body underneath it. I went into army crawl mode and forced myself into the hole and under the fence. The wire was sharp and nearly ripped my shirt and cut me in the process. However, I made it to the underside. Only one thing to do now:

I ran across the desert, far away from Area 51, and to freedom.

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><p><strong>Cliffhanger! I'm so evil! :-) What will happen next? Will mikey be recaptured? Will he survive and make it to New York City? Or will he perish in the cruel Nevadan desert? Tune in next time, readers!<strong>


	16. Across the Desert

**Thank you to all the reviews from the last chapter. Ch. 15 has gotten the most reviews out of all the chapters so far from _Who I Am. _I forgot to mention last chapter that it's been two years since Mikey was captured by Bishop. For some reason, Mikey wandering around the desert reminds me of the song "New Low" by: Middle Class Rut, probably due to their music video which is two guys walking in the desert. Because this chapter reminds me of that song, I copy-and pasted some of the lyrics. Enjoy. Disclaimer: don't own Ninja Turtles or "New Low"**

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><p><em>How did I get so far from where I was?<em>  
><em>When did I decide to lose my way?<em>  
><em>Who have I become…<em>

_I got a new low, all 52 cards in a row_  
><em>I see now that I won't let go<em>  
><em>No I won't let go<em>

The jet black sky begins to lighten into a pretty shade of navy blue. Nighttime is over, and dawn is here stay. For me, this can mean only one thing. No, wait two things. First, I've been walking for hours, and second, as soon as the sun is done rising up from the East, word will get out in the lab that I have escaped, and Bishop will have a helicopter looking for me. I walk faster. It must be only five a.m. and the heat is nearly killing me. I've been walking for miles without stopping to rest or even take a sip from my water bottle. It's a long journey to who-knows-where, and I need to ration my water supply.

An hour later, and the navy blue sky grew lighter until a light shade of pink can be seen from the horizon. _I must be heading east, _I thought. Well, I really don't where I'm going as long as it's far away from Area 51. I don't even want to hear the name anymore. The pink horizon grows pinker, and my walk becomes a trudge. My legs are screaming for a break, or they're about to fall off. I would listen to them if I weren't so scared of Bishop coming after me, and what Stockman would do to me once they get me back. I shudder at that thought.

The adrenalin rush of last night has long since worn off. Too bad. I wish it hasn't. It really helped me stay alert and keep all my energy. My mouth is becoming as dry as the dessert, and for the first time, I stop and unscrew the cap and take a sip of the water. It tastes like gold! I want to drink more, just dunk the whole thing in my mouth, but I can't let that happen. I part the water bottle from my lips and screw on the cap. I continue to walk.

The sky lost its bluish color, and now it was pink and yellow. I could see the bright orange sun rising up. I should keep walking, but I could not help but stop and admire this sight. I never saw the sun rise before. Actually, I never saw what outside looks like. My room never had a window, and neither did the rooms I have been in have windows either. Outside feels like a whole new world, and this sunrise is the gem of it.

I must have stood for hours or maybe even minutes, but it felt like hours. The desert heat combined with the sunrise's awe beauty makes time seem so fuzzy. Well, the sun has finished rising, and it's time for me to move on. This time of day is especially dangerous. The guards usually wake me up at this time, but they'll discover that I am not in my room. They will also see the open vent. Bishop will be furious and either he will send someone in a helicopter to find me, or he will personally get in that helicopter to scout for me. Personally, I take someone else in a helicopter than face Bishop. I don't even want to know what he'll do to me when he finds out what I did.

To evade possible capture, I traveled under dessert trees brush, large cacti, and whatever will either make me blend within the surroundings from an aerial view or provide me cover and shelter. It also gives me shade from the sweltering desert sun. I'm starting to like the sun less and less now due to heat and for the fact it leaves me exposed from a bird's-eye-view. I could go for some rain. And for some food now that my stomach is growling, and there isn't any food in sight. Thirty minutes later, and my stomach is hurting due to sheer hunger. I almost wish I back at the lab. At least I'm fed two square meals a day.

Judging from the sky and the sun, it must be late morning maybe even early afternoon. I don't know. I don't own a watch. But then I hear it – the sound of a helicopter. I freeze and panic. My heart rate soars, and my breathing is out of control. My mind comes to one solid, cold conclusion: it's Bishop's helicopter! They saw me. I shiver. I think the helicopter is coming back. My legs stop complaining, and I run the hell outta here, staying under the protection of desert trees. Never mind that running in hundred degree weather with no food and little water could give you heat stroke or heat exhaustion. Getting caught by Bishop is the worst thing in the world!

As I am running, I take a peek at the helicopter, and to my relief, it's not a helicopter from Area 51. It looks like a helicopter from a weather station. I slow down my pace and drink some more water. This time it is much more than a sip. I drink about a fourth of the bottle, and then pour some on the back of my neck and on my forehead before screwing the cap on. I laugh in spite of myself. It's just a regular helicopter! Nothing to be afraid of. Man! I'm getting paranoid! I make a mental note to look up at the sky and check what kind of helicopter it is next time I hear one.

I walk some more. Now I'm sure it's the middle of the afternoon. The heat is particularly unbearable at this time of day. I drink some more water, and to my horror, it's gone! I've been carelessly drinking water all day that I forgot to ration it. I only have one water bottle that's now empty and no water in sight! Plus, my stomach and legs are killing me, and I'm pretty sure my neck, face, legs, arms, and just about every exposed skin is sunburned. This is bad. If I don't find water and food soon, I'm gonna either starve, dehydrate, or both. Then I'll be dead while vultures pick away at my decaying flesh and eat it leaving only my bones which will be chewed by a lone coyote or desert fox. I'm screwed, but, hey, at least it's better than being brainwashed to fight for someone that you don't like. I keep moving.

Dusk is coming, and I'm panting like a dog! The heat will not cool down. I collapse in utter exhaustion. I lie on my stomach not being able to move an inch. Desert sand get in my mouth, and I spit it out. A scorpion crawls by. I lay here for hours

"Come on! Get up!" barks a voice that sounds like the devil. I look up, and it's Bishop gazing down at me with a look of anger and disappointment. I'm too tired to feel fear or to move my body in standing position. I can only think that he's an idiot for wearing a black suit in the sweltering desert sun.

"You son of a bitch, escaping. You're a real pain in the ass, kid." Then I see Stockman gazing at me in pure contempt. I don't say a thing.

"I don't know how you manage to escape, but you should know that escapement from my facility is the greatest mistake you can make. A mistake that deserves a severe punishment," says Bishop in a cold cruel voice. This should make me pee in my pants, but I don't. I can't feel a thing.

"And I get to deliver that punishment. Trust me; it will hurt me more than it will hurt you." Then Stockman laughs. They both laugh. They keep laughing that maniacally laughter. It hurts my ears.

"Stop!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "Shut up, both of you!" Their laughter dies on the wind, and they disappear. Where did they go? I thought they were going to take me back. Black spots dance in my vision, and I feel like I'm looking through a tunnel. The last things I see before passing out are a couple of white, men's size sneakers and the butt and stock of a hunting rifle.

_I cannot help feeling like I have so much at stake_  
><em>So I lock myself inside my head and I just run in place<em>  
><em>So many directions I don't know which way to go<em>  
><em>I'm so busy doing nothing I got nothing to show<em>

_I got a new low, all 52 cards in a row_  
><em>I see now that I won't let go<em>  
><em>No I won't let go<em>

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><p><strong>After looking up the lyrics to the song, I feel like it some of the lyrics really describes human Mikey with no memories or sense of who he is as he wanders the desert in search of his identity. Tell me what you think. <strong>


	17. Nestor

**Finally! Chapter 17 is up! I'm so sorry it took so long. My computer had some issues that my mom didn't fix until just last Monday (before I even started working on Chapter 17), but she got my computer fixed. I worked a little bit on the chapter, but it was late at night so I stopped working. Then the plot bunnies tortured me and possesed me to write and post _Let The Children Weep _last night. So today, I dedicated the evening of finishing this chapter. Sorry it's so short.**

**Blu Rose Kelly, thanks for the memo. The boys (including Mikey) are now 16-going-on-17 (there's a special reason why I haven't made them turn 17 just yet. You'll see eventually). Mikey was made to look like a 15-year-old kid but by the time his transformation was complete, his 16th birthday passed. So due to these events, although Mikey is the same age as his brothers, he'll look younger and act younger for his age.**

**Disclaimer: don't own Ninja Turtles except for Nestor and Jetta**

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><p>I groaned as I slowly opened my eyes and licked my lips. My mouth felt so dry. I wish I had something to drink. It suddenly occurred to me that I was lying down on something soft and that soft thing is a bed. My upper body bolted upwards. I'm doomed! Bishop and Stockman have founded me and captured me. Now I'm going to be a brainwashed soldier! Not only that but I'm going to be tortured for escaping. I might as well just kill myself.<p>

But once my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, I realized I was not in my room, but in someone else's. I don't know who, but this place doesn't have the feel of a lab in Area 51, and I doubt it's any place Bishop or Stockman owns. I scanned around. Sure enough I was on a bed with white sheets just like mine back at the lab. There was a nightstand with a white table cloth covering it on the right side of me next to the bed. On the nightstand were a lamp, a glass of water with mostly melted ice cubes, and a plate with a sandwich, an apple, and a bunch of big fat, green grapes. The walls were painted green, and across from the bed was a window with the blinds pulled down. However, evening sunlight still managed to pour down from the cracks. (I must have been out for half an hour or through the whole night and through morning and afternoon.) A ceiling fan was spinning on high directly above me. There was a wooden wardrobe in the far left corner and an armchair in the far right corner. There were a few picture frames, but none of them had pictures of people just signs that say "Home Sweet Home" or drawings of farm or domestic life. A gray rug covered the whole floor. There was no foreboding feeling of danger in the atmosphere.

I stretched my arms, and cautiously took the plate of food and ate the sandwich (turns out it's ham-and-cheese with mayo) in bed. It doesn't taste funny so I threw caution into the wind and practically gulped it down. My stomach was killing me! The apple was nice and juicy like how apples should be and it combined with the grapes, helped satisfy the dry taste in my mouth, but their satisfaction was nothing compared to the cold glass of water. It was as if the insides of my mouth were a barren wasteland, suffering the effects of seven years of drought. Then suddenly a flood comes and brings in new life to the barren wasteland. That's exactly how my mouth felt, and the flood felt good.

The plate was now devoid of all food, and the glass was empty. I began to relax in this strange place and let my stomach digest the food. It felt calm and relaxing in this room. I lied down. I feel as though I can lay here forever. Suddenly, a dog barked from just outside the door, and I was startled from my relaxation. I immediately jumped from the bed and got into a defensive position. The doorknob moved, and I got further ready to attack just in case. Who knows who lives here? The door opened just a foot wide crack and a black lab ran into the room right towards me, put its paws on my stomach and began licking me. I was taken back, but just how this dog reacted, I knew I had nothing to fear. I bent down and began rubbing and petting the dog.

"Hey, buddy. Where did you come from?" I said as I rubbed its ears. The dog licked my face. "Awww. You're such a good dog. Who's a good dog? Who's a good dog? You are. Yes, you are." The dog continued to lick me. I haven't felt this happy since, well, since forever.

"It seems that you and Jetta already like each other," said a masculine voice. I nearly jumped out of my skin in surprise. I got up to see an old man with a gray beard, wearing jeans, white sneakers, a white T-shirt with a red button down shirt over it but the buttons were left unbuttoned, and a John Deer cap. He had a hunting rifle slung over his right shoulder. Jetta trotted toward the man, and he patted her on the head. The man smiled a disarming smile. "Relax, kid, I'm not gonna hurt you. In fact, I'm the one who found you passed out in the desert just after you were having some weird hallucination. The desert is a dangerous place to roam. Just what were you doing out there?"

The man seemed friendly. If I told him the truth, I doubt he would turn me back in, but I don't know him so I don't want to risk getting sent back there. The man could see my hesitation so he said, "It's alright. You don't have to tell me. It's your personal business, and a man doesn't have to tell his personal business if he doesn't want to. By the way, my name's Nestor. Mind telling me your name?" I like how this guy was calling me a man. It's a nice change from people looking down at you and all they see is an animal.

"My name's Mikey," I blurted out. Darn! Why did I tell him my real name? I should have used an alias just in case Bishop was looking for me. Stupid! Stupid!

"Okay, then, Mikey. It seem as though you have been out for thirty minutes. You were lucky that I found you. Not many people can survive out there you know." Nestor stared at me as though he were studying me, trying to figure out who I am. I started to feel uncomfortable. I don't know this guy except for his name, and yet, it feels like he's peering into my soul or something. Finally after five minutes of awkward eternity, he said, "For now you can stay here until you sort some things out in your head. You can use the guest room. You might want to take a shower. It's across the hall, first door on the right. Leave your clothes here. I'll lend you some of mind." He turned to leave, but just before he did, he looked at me for a little longer, and said, "You seem like a good kid, Mikey." Then he closed the door, and he and Jetta left, leaving me in utter confusion. How did he know I have some issues going on? It's like that guy has some kind of sixth sense, but he seems trustworthy and weird like the desert heat has gotten to his head for a little bit too long.

I'm starting to get a sense of déjà vu as I am reminded of the day when I was first introduced to my own room in Area 51, and just like before, I was confused with no sense of direction or identity. Unlike before, this place feels safe, and Nestor seems trustworthy. Only time will tell if Nestor remains a friend.


	18. Identity Crisis!

**I used a little bit of outside literature for inspiration. The idea of a lost Mikey stumbeling an old man (Nestor) that acts sort of as a guide for the lost Mikey was inspirdf from Tim O'Brien's short story "On The Rainy River", and Nestor's speech of changing spiratually and emotionally and not being able to fully experience home again was inspired by Thomas Wolfe's _You Can't Go Home Again. _I've read "On The Rainy River" before but never _You Can' Go Home Again. _My eighth grade english teacher told us about the novel and the idea of not being able to emotionally go home.**

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><p>For a few days, I stayed with Nestor and his dog Jetta who seemed to take a real liking towards me (she slept with me every night and follows me everywhere during the day). Nestor was a real nice guy and even had a good sense of humor. He taught me some basic survival skills that can be applied in any kind of wilderness setting and some specific desert survival skills. He even showed me how to use his hunting rifle and was impressed that I could fire it so well. He said that I had a good aim. But the best part of Nestor was that he never asked me questions about my past, what I'm doing here, or where I'm going. It's not that he's clueless. I think he knows something's going on. It's just that, well, I don't know how to explain this, but I think he somehow senses that I don't want to talk about it or that he somehow understands where I'm coming from. Either way I'm glad because I don't really want him to know where I'm from (he might not believe me), what I'm doing here (I'm escaping but I don't want to talk about it), or where I'm going (I'm going to New York City for some very personal, gut-instinct reasons despite the obvious escape). Besides personal reasons, there are practical reasons. If I were to leave, and then Bishop stumbles over Nestor and questions him, Nestor could very likely tell Bishop everything, and Bishop would be one step closer to finding me, but something tells me that if I did tell Nestor, Nestor won't betray me. He seems too good of a guy, and I really like his dog. Jetta helped me discover something about my self – I'm an animal lover.<p>

I often repaid Nestor's kindness by cooking meals for him whenever he's outside. It turns out that I'm a really good cook and a creative one, too. I don't know how I'm so good. It all just came in naturally from the locked part of my subconscious – the one Bishop created a drug for. Nestor was so impressed with my meals that he actually paid me to cook for him. I kept the money. It might come useful one day. Besides cooking meals for Nestor, I often help him tend his little garden. It's backbreaking work, let me tell you, especially with hundred degree heat along with the sun beating down on you, but Nestor often tells me humorous stories, and Jetta will do some funny tricks, and I often make jokes that get him roaring with laughter. That's the third thing I learned about myself: I'm pretty funny.

_An animal lover, a good cook, and a comedian, _I thought to myself while sitting on Nestor's front porch in the middle of the day, _Those are three things I learned about myself. Still they're not enough. _As much as I like Nestor and Jetta, I can't stay here forever. I need to find out who I am. Those three aspects of my unknown personality aren't enough to describe me. This leads to my big question: how do I get to New York? Wandering around the desert isn't going to help. I need a better plan. Maybe Nestor can help. Would he really help me or refuse to help because I'm a minor? I don't know.

I'm completely lost – physically and mentally. I don't know who I am or where I am specifically. On top of that, I have two mad scientists looking for me, and when they do find me, they'll turn me into a mind slave. When that happens, I'll have no sense of self or free will. I can't let that happen. I'll die before it happens, but what do I do, and where do I go? I know I want to go to New York City. My gut is telling me that that city holds answers to my past and that past will tell me who I am. But how do I get there?

A revelation came crashing down on me like I was being stoned. During my stay in Area 51, I was treated like some kind of animal. No worse than that. I was treated like a thing. Something they can control. The guards looked down upon me with disgust and view me as an unwelcomed, caged animal. Stockman viewed me as a worthless piece of trash, and Bishop thinks I can be controlled to do his will. Is that all I am? A worthless piece of object whose only purpose is to be controlled? Is that who I am? Tears ran down my face at this sudden revelation. Jetta, who was sitting beside me this whole time, noticed my tears and licked them dry. No, that can't be true! I'm much more than that! I've just haven't figured it out yet. But how do I learn who I am?

Nestor doesn't say a word about my personal history, and I'm thankful for that, but what's his personal history? Somehow I think Nestor understands. That's probably why he doesn't say anything. He understands where I'm coming from because he's been there himself. Maybe I should ask him. He could really help me out here. I know I can trust him, and for some reason, he trusts me.

Later that day when dinner was finished and the dishes have been cleaned, Nestor, Jetta, and I sat on the front porch to enjoy the night air and look at the stars. Nestor was sitting on his porch swing, smoking a pipe, and Jetta and I sat on the porch steps. No one said a word. Just soak up the night breeze.

"Nestor?" I timidly asked.

"Hmmm?" he hummed while making enjoying his pipe.

"How did you and Jetta end up here?" I asked.

Nestor stayed quiet. I turned around to see if he was troubled by this question. I knew it was personal. Perhaps, like me, he didn't want to talk about his past either. Nestor pulled his pipe from his mouth, blew some smoke, and to my surprise, he smiled. "I ran away many years ago. Jetta, on the other hand, was a stray puppy when I found her during my course as a runaway. I took her in, and we founded this place. It was run down when I found it. Somehow, I managed to refurbish it with the little money I earned doing odd jobs in a city nearby."

I didn't expect this answer. Curious, I probed for more. It seemed important to me that Nestor's personal history contained anything I can relate to. "Really? How come you ran away?"

Nestor blew a smoke ring. He thought for a minute and then said, "I used to live in New York City with my folks awhile back. I had a pretty decent life. We weren't poor, but we weren't rich. Once I entered the teenaged years, my views on the world started to change from that of my parents. I began to think for myself. This caused a rift between my folks and me. I needed a chance to find my own identity, but they wanted me to be just like them which was to take over the family business. I didn't know what I wanted to do, but I knew for certain it wasn't to follow my parents' footsteps. After a huge argument, I packed my belongings, hopped a freight train – didn't care where it went – and went out to explore this country trying to find my own identity. I did odd jobs to make money. I never stayed in one place too long. Eventually, I came across the Saguaro Desert and fell in love with it. It was like the desert called me to settle here. It was probably high time, too. I was in my forties by then and had already found out who I am. So I did along with Jetta."

He's like me. Nestor wanted to find his own identity so he took a journey across America to find it, and he did. Now I need to find my own identity. Maybe a trip across America would do. Nestor's story fascinated me so I probed for more questions. "Did you ever see or talked to your parents again?"

Nestor looked sad, but his face showed no traces of regret. "No, I didn't. To me, they represented the very demon of conformity. They loved me alright, and I did, too, even after I left, but I could never go back, and I didn't want them finding me either." Nestor was quiet for awhile. He smoked his pipe, and then he, with a sadness and thoughtfulness in his voice, said, "When someone leaves home and changes greatly in a spiritual or emotional way such as I did and then comes back home, they can't really truly return home. They won't be the same as they were before they left, and they can't relive all those special memories of home. You're a different person, a complete stranger even. You're home physically but not emotionally. Even your family senses that and they feel as though you're not theirs anymore. Sometimes it's a good thing for both the family and you. Most of the times, it's real sad for both of us. I guess for me, it was good that I changed, but for my parents it was really sad. I guess I didn't want to experience my parents' sadness and disappointment. Maybe I haven't truly found my identity because of my fear of my parents' disappointment. I don't know. I just know that New York City will never be home anymore, and I know who I am now, and I'm not changing that. Besides, it's too late to see my parents again. They're dead by now." Nestor looked at me quizzically, and with his usual cheerful demeanor, he said, "You sure are making me think about things more deeply, kid. I haven't thought about this deep about my past since when I first settled here."

For the first time in four days, courage bubbled up inside me as I told Nestor about my past. "I don't remember anything about myself not even my past. Just my first name. Other than my name, I don't even know who I am, or where I come from, or even if I have a family or not, but something in my gut tells me that I can find those answers at New York City. That's where I was going until I passed out in the desert. Honestly, I don't know how to get there." I didn't tell Nestor about Area 51, me being transformed into a human, Bishop, Stockman, or any of Bishop's plans for me. Right now, that wasn't important.

"Hmmmm. I see. I wonder if the universe is playing with symbolic meanings with me leaving New York and you returning. Don't worry, kid. When you're ready to leave, I formulate a plan to get you to your destination. Everyone needs to know who they are. If they don't, you're not much of a person, are you?" Nestor asked. His last words struck a chord in me. Bishop, Stockman, and the guards didn't view me as a person just an object. I had no identity or sense of self and humanity. Nestor sees that humanity in me. He views me as a person, but he understands that I need to see that inside myself. He understands that I need to leave in order to find out who I am.

I turned my head around. "Thanks, Nestor."

"No problem, kid," he said. He sure does like calling me kid rather than my real name. Actually, it doesn't bother me at all. He calls me "kid" in an affectionate sort of way. It's much better than being called an animal or a "worthless piece of trash".

For the next few hours, Nestor, Jetta, and I sat in silence just watching the stars in the night sky. I warm breeze blew past my cheeks. I knew I was gonna be okay. I'm not what Bishop and Stockman think I am. I will find out who I am, and Nestor's gonna help me. I can trust him. I think it's safe to call him a friend now. I don't know what I'll encounter along the way or what I'll end up learning about. But one thing's for sure: I'm gonna be okay.

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><p><strong>Nestor is a good guy and not a spy! He's on Mikey's side. So after reading ch. 18, you like?<strong>


	19. Homebound

**Update! The journey to New York City begins! A big shout out and a thank you to All in the Details for giving me Nestor's last name. You rock! Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles just Nestor, Jetta, and the concept of what Mikey looks like as a human.**

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><p>I was dead set on leaving for New York City, but I wasn't sure when. And truth be told, I was scared. I don't have any concept of the world except that it's big and huge and filled with bad people like Bishop and Stockman and good people like Nestor. To make things worse, I was vulnerable. I have no memory of my past and concept of who I am. I'm a blank canvas. I can be easily taken advantage of and influenced by not very good people. I don't know who I am, but I'm definitely sure who I don't want to be. Man, being vulnerable sucks, but Nestor says it's good to be vulnerable. It means you can feel emotion and form healthy relationships. I hope being vulnerable is worth it in the end.<p>

So yeah, back to what I was saying. I don't know when to leave. I'm waiting for the right time, I guess but maybe there is no right time. Just cease the moment and great things will happen. Still, is that true or will I know? If I leave too soon, will bad things happen to me along the way? One thing's for sure was that I wasn't leaving at this exact minute. I was too tired. Instead, I went to bed while Jetta slept next to me. Then I had this dream.

_It was blurry, extremely blurry. Definite shapes and figures were smeared all over the picture until it was one mess of mostly a warm tan-ish brown color with dots of red, orange, green, blue, and a few other less noticeable colors. All though it was hard to make out, it was obvious that two people – a male and a female – were speaking to each other. Their voices were muddled and hard to make out what each was saying despite the fact that they were speaking in normal tones. The male's voice spoke the most and with a surfer's accent. He seemed despondent as he told a story with some sorts. The female just listened, but when she spoke, she was encouraging. It was what she said that rang crystal clear. _

_"I think you should follow your dream." _

I woke up after that. I think it was a dream. It must be. Those images and visions I received back at Area 51 were crystal clear in audio and visual. This one was not except at the end. Honestly, I didn't care whether it was a dream or not. What that female said about following my dream rang a chord in me. I have a dream to find out who I am, but I don't know when to do it. She didn't say when, but her voice carried the implication of now. In her encouraging words, I found the answer to my question. Tomorrow night, I'm leaving.

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><p>That morning over a breakfast of rabbit stew, I told Nestor that I decided to leave tonight. He just looked at me and said, "That was quick. I didn't think you would leave so soon. Well, I guess it works out this way, because your transport to New York City is leaving at eight o'clock, and I know just how we're going to sneak you on."<p>

"Transport?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "There's a freight train leaving for Manhattan, New York City at eight o'clock somewhere nearby. We'll have to sneak you on board." Nestor winked at me. "Don't worry, kid. I got a plan."

For the rest of the day, it was spent on preparation for my journey. Nestor and I drove to a few nearby stores to buy a week supply of nonperishable food and water, a black backpack, and some supplies. Afterwards, we headed for the bank to withdrawal some money. When we came home, we began to organize the stuff and put it in the backpack, and Nestor went over the reason for each thing.

"It's a four to five day journey to New York City by train. This food should last you long enough until you get there. The water bottles, on the other hand, should last you two weeks. It'll get cold, but you can't afford to be loaded down with blankets. It's too much luggage, and it might get you caught on the train ride. That's why I got you a hoodie and a waterproof jacket. The jacket is lined with wool underneath, but it's not as warm as a winter coat." Nestor slapped something in my hand. It was a stack of money and a Swiss Army Knife. "There's two hundred dollars worth of money in there, and the Swiss Army Knife is used for protection and hunting not for murder. It should also come in useful for a few other things. Keep that knife with you at all times. I suggest storing it in your jeans pocket. Also, hide that money. Don't let anyone steal it. You will especially need it when you get to the Big Apple and have run out of food. Another thing," Nestor pulled out something from the plastic bag. It was a journal and a pen. "This is for you to write about your experiences. I wrote in one when I ran away. Trust me, it helps to reflect in what you've learned as a person and as an individual, and this journal does the trick." Nestor put the journal and pen in the backpack. He took the two hundred dollars and stored it in a secret compartment in the backpack. "Now here's the plan. As I said earlier, a freight train leaves a train station in Las Vegas at eight o'clock. We'll try to get you in one of the boxcars at seven thirty. Stay hidden among the cargo. Don't let the railroad workers see you. They'll call the cops and have you arrested for trespassin'. It should be easy for the next few days. They don't come in while the train's moving. Even when the train stops, don't get out. If you have to use the bathroom, find a corner that's inhabitant with rats and do your business there. They'll just think it came from the rats, and if they do suspect anything, you'll be long gone. As soon as the train gets to Manhattan, wait till it slows down before jumping off, and make sure when you do jump off, it's not onto oncoming traffic. What you do at New York City is up to you. Just stay out of trouble."

"Okay," I said in understanding. I don't even know what hitchhiking a train is like, but I'm already know that I'm going to follow the "Stay hidden" rule like it's the law. However, I was touched. Nestor was doing so much for me, and yet, he barely knows me. I'd hate to leave Nestor and Jetta. I'm really going to miss them. I wanted to thank him, but I wasn't sure how to put it in words since he's done so much so I awkwardly said, "Um, Nestor, thanks for helping me prepare for this and, uh, for everything before that, especially saving me in the desert."

Nestor smiled his good-natured grin. "No problem, kid. Anything to help a fellow find himself."

The rest of the day was spent in wait for seven o'clock, the time we're leaving. We didn't do much, but I tried to stay busy by playing with Jetta (as a last goodbye to her). Tonight I was leaving, and I was terrified and excited about the prospect of entering a foreign city. I wonder what it would be like in New York City. Nestor said it was big and that it was the city that never sleeps. Will I find my answers there? I just hope Bishop and Stockman won't find me there. I surprised they haven't caught me yet. You think with the technology at their disposal, they would have found me by now. Honestly, I don't care. As long as they don't find me, that's all I care about.

It was getting to be six o'clock. I decided in a token of my gratitude to Nestor and Jetta, I'll cook up a special meal of pizza (turns out pizza is my specialty) – a large cheese pizza for Nestor and me and a doggy pizza for Jetta. I found some dough and began to spread it around. I cooked up some tomato sauce from a can and poured it on both pizzas. I decorated our pizza with cheese, but for Jetta, I decorated it with different kinds of doggy treats instead. I stuck them in the oven and then set the table while Jetta stood by my side, tail wagging, and licking my legs. She was impatient for her pizza.

"Sheesh, Jetta. Wait awhile. Will ya? The pizza has to cook first." Jetta just cocked her head. I smiled. She was really cute whenever she did that.

Finally, the timer on the oven dinged, and using oven mittens, I took both pizzas out of the oven and set them down to cool. When they finally did, Nestor stumbled into the kitchen. "Ooh, pizza! Thanks, kid."

We ate our meal in what is our last meal together in silence. Only the sounds of Jetta excitingly licking her bowl of tomato sauce and pizza crumbs could be heard.

"Man, kid. I'm sure gonna miss you. You really know how to cook, especially pizza. I wonder if you're Italian. You must be if you can make a pizza this good although you don't look Italian," Nestor remarked. I just smiled. I was too nervous about my future. Nestor proceeded to tell me all about New York City, describing every single detail and telling me personal stories from his boyhood. I just listened in fascination and anxiety.

Finally, it was time to leave. The three of us boarded Nestor's beaten up pickup truck and drove to the train station in Las Vegas. The sun has just set. Twilight will soon come, and the darkness will make a great cover for me to hide from the railroad workers. Nestor parked in a remote location near the train station. Before I left the truck, Nestor said, "Here, kid." And handed me a small folded up piece of paper. I unfolded it, and read it. Written on it were Nestor Goodman and his PO box number, address, and phone number. "Whenever you get the chance, write to me, okay? And when you figured things out, come and visit me and Jetta sometime."

I looked at Nestor. For the first time ever, I felt a sense of kinship with him, and I knew he felt the same thing with me. "Thanks Nestor," I said in the most sincere voice I ever used.

Nestor gave me a hug. "I'm sure gonna miss you, kid."

I returned the hug. "Me too, Nestor. Me too." We broke the hug and I lovingly patted Jetta. "See ya, Jetta. I'm gonna miss you, too." Jetta licked me on the mouth.

I opened the door. It was up to me to get on the train, but before I left, Nestor shouted, "Good luck, Mikey!"

"Thanks, Nestor. I'll write to you as soon as I can." I closed the door and ran off into the train station. I heard the truck drive away.

I sprinted from building to building, hiding from passing by railroad workers. Stealth came by naturally to me. Bishop taught me how to use it. I was one sprint away from a boxcar. As soon as the coat was clear, I sprinted to the boxcar and quickly climbed into the open door. I hid behind the wooden crates and waited for thirty minutes. A railroad worker poked his head in, and I held my breath. He didn't see me, and he closed the door, trapping me inside. A few minutes later, and the train began to move and increased speed. I stayed up for awhile, but the sound of the train moving across the tracks lulled me to sleep.

I was homebound for New York City.

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><p><strong>Mikey's "dream" (it's really an old memory of his) is based off the episode "The Unconvincing Turtle Titan". It's the scene in which Mikey was telling April about how he wants to be a superhero. The reason why this memory was so blurry was because of the memory blockage drugs beginning to wear off along with possible side effects of making memories blurry after awhile of taking the drug. Will the side effects wear off? Who knows.<strong>


	20. Journey

**Another update. I should warn you. On July 17, I'll be leaving for a 2 week camp at the University of Delaware. I will not have the chance to write and puplish more chapters. On top of all that, on August first, my family and I will be leaving for an 8 day (or could be 9 day) vacation to visit my relatives in California and to sight see in Nevada. I will also not be writing or puplishing any chapters during that time. I have no idea if this will be the last post before camp and/or vacation, but just un case, here's a warning. So with that said, disclaimer: don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>I woke up from a dreamless sleep as soon as the sun started to rise. I had an urge to peak out of my boxcar and watch the sunrise, but Nestor told me to stay hidden, and I was going to follow that like it's one of the Ten Commandments. Instead, I just laid back and snacked on a bag of potato chips and drunk a little bit of water. When the bag was finished, I just hung out, but pretty soon I was getting increasingly bored and antsy.<p>

This was going to be a long week.

If I moved around, I could break something and attract attention. Although, due to the loud noise from the train riding on the tracks, I doubt anyone will hear me. Still, I wanted to be careful. After all, once the train reaches its destination, they could see the mess and possibly catch me. But I need to do something other than snack, crap, drink, and nap. I know! Nestor gave me a very detailed map of New York City. I can use it to get myself familiar with the city, especially the Manhattan area. Nestor also gave me a small flashlight. I need to stay hidden in the darkness. The flashlight can help me see the map.

I dug through my backpack for these two items. I pulled out a yellow flashlight and a map of New York City. On one side of the map, is a map of all of New York City. On the other side, the map is divided into five parts showing Manhattan, The Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island. I checked the side of the map showing all of NYC to see where the train will stop. It was an old train station in Manhattan. Oh good. This makes my job easier. I turned the map around and focused mainly on Manhattan. Central Park seems like a fun place to go, but something on the map draws my attention. It was a drawing of an antique store called Second Time Around. I never heard of it, and I doubt it's a chain store, but it feels familiar to me. Maybe I should check it out, too.

I must have stared at the map for thirty more minutes before getting bored and putting it back. I learned enough of New York City for one day. But I didn't feel like doing nothing so I used the flashlight to make shadow puppets. So far I can do a really good butterfly. However, I need to work on my dog. As soon as this got boring, I wrote in my journal. It was a short entry. Not much happened. I filled up some space by doodling.

Sunset came so I snacked on some pretzels for dinner, and by the time it was dark, I went to sleep, but it wasn't dreamless. I had this dream, but it was all so fuzzy and the voices were muffled. By the time I woke up, I forgotten what the dream was even about or what it looked like. I didn't fret about it so I just snacked on some more potato chips for breakfast.

The next four days were the longest days in my life. Being stuck in my room in Area 51 was more excited than this. At least, I got to get out of my room. I've been eating so much junk food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner that I'm surprised that I didn't get sick of it yet. Maybe, I had a liking for junk food in my former life, but I sure could go for some pizza. I spent my time looking through my map, trying to get myself familiar with the Big Apple before heading out into the jungle. Nestor told me that you could easily get lost in New York City. I never been there (or at least I _think _I never been there), and I definitely don't want to get lost among a crowd of unfamiliar people. Besides pouring my eyes over my map, I've been perfecting my shadow puppet techniques. My dog is looking much better now. I recorded all of this in my journal which as lead to a new self-discovery: I like writing and drawing. It's enjoyable actually, especially doodling. I wanted to do more complicated drawings. Just to see if I'm any good at them and to see if I enjoy them very much, but I plan to reserve this journal for writing only.

Something that's been bothering me is these dreams I have. Sometimes I forget them as soon as I wake up, but sometimes I don't. They are always blurry and the sound is muffled. I can't tell who's saying what and what they're saying. I often recorded these down in my journal in great detail. My guess is that they could be those images I used to get until Bishop drugged my mind. Now that I haven't been taking the drug, they're coming back, but they'll become clear again eventually as soon as the drug completely wears off. I hope I'm right. They will be very helpful into uncovering my identity.

By the fifth day, the train began to greatly decrease speed. I remembered Nestor saying that the journey should take about four or five days, and as soon as the train begins to slow down before reaching the station, I was to jump. I put my journal back in my backpack, zipped it up, and slung it over my shoulders. I tried to open the boxcar door, and to my horror, it was locked! Darn it! I'll have to wait until someone unlocks it and attempt to sneak off. I retreated behind the crates.

The train eventually stopped. I stayed hidden. I heard railroad workers cuss and talk as they unlocked the boxcars. Two stepped in. I held my breath. I couldn't let them see me. One – a Mexican with greasy hair and grease stains on his face and clothes – took a sniff at the air.

"Damn. What smells like shit in here?" he cussed before holding his nose.

His friend who had blonde hair and blue eyes and just as dirty as his Mexican co-worker, answered, "Rat shit probably. Damn rats. We should convince the boss to set up rat traps."

I stifled a giggle. They had no idea that that smell is from my own shit not from a rat.

"Come on, dude, let's get this crap out of here," said the Mexican as he lifted a crate.

My heart began to beat faster. He was deadly close to where I was. I turned around and noticed that the door was still open, and their backs faced that open door. If I could just sneak through this small space, I can reach the opening and get out of here.

So I did, I tuckered in my stomach and attempted to squeeze through. Once I made it through, I just had to bend down and keep myself hidden among these smaller stacks of crates before reaching the door. Their backs were still towards the door as they unloaded the boxcar. I just hope they stay like that. I bent down and began to crawl, but the blonde guy lifted a crate from one of the small stacks that was keeping me hidden from them. I stopped dead for a minute. I thought for sure he was gonna see me. To my relief, he didn't notice me as he turned around to his buddy and handed him the crate. I speedily crawled to the door. As soon as I reached the door, I paused to see if they won't see me. The coast was clear, and I jumped down from the boxcar. I ran as fast as I could away from the train station. As soon as I left the station, I took a look around and saw no sky but huge buildings.

I was here in New York City.

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><p><strong>Sorry it's so short. I hope you enjoy it.<strong>


	21. Arrival

**Lucky me! I got to update before camp sarts. Maybe I'll get to update again. I don't know. Disclaimer: don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>I was in awe at the hugeness of the buildings and the enormous amounts of people. This place contrasted greatly with the Mojave Desert and yet compared with it, too. Both places were enormous and vast, but the Mojave Desert was empty and open unlike this city. New York City is so vast, so amazing like a metal, shiny, concrete jungle. This place will be fun to explore but easy to get lost. But how do I find my identity here? Where do I start?<p>

I need to organize my priorities. First thing's first. I need shelter. I could check into a motel, but I need my shelter to be permanent. Not temporarily. Two hundred dollars won't get me far. Then I remembered Nestor telling me about where he used to live as a teenager. It was a small grocery store with an apartment at the top. Nestor's parents are dead, and Nestor doesn't have any siblings or other family members. Maybe if I'm lucky, the place is abandoned. I can use that as a shelter. Now where did Nestor say where it was? Oh yeah, it was near the North side of Harlem. I looked on the map. Crap! It would take forever to get there on foot. I need to take a taxi or a bus. Hmmm. A bus sounds cheaper, and it is public transportation. It should be cheaper. But maybe I should shop for some supplies first. I need some paper, some envelopes, and some stamps to write to Nestor. I have enough food to last me two more days. I can wait till then. You know? I think finding the place will be better. I can organize myself and decide on a plan. Besides, I can always shop tomorrow. I don't want to sleep out on the streets.

I walk through crowds of people trying to find a bus stop. I found a few, but the signs that listed the routes didn't list Harlem as one of them. So I walked some more. I kept an eye on my surrounding and tried to memorize them. It was easy to get lost in a place like this. Finally, twenty blocks away from where I started, I found a bus stop heading to Harlem. According to Nestor, if there's a place I want to go, but it's not a bus stop. I can just pull on a cord above me and that will trigger the brakes. The bus driver will automatically open the doors for me to get out. Okay. That means I have to be on the lookout for a Goodman's Groceries if that's what it still is today.

I sat down on the bench. For the first fifteen minutes, I was the only one here. Then an old lady sat down next to me. I took a look at her. She had a cotton blue dress with pink shawls and red dress shoes. She wore bifocals with square frames and had white, puffy hair. She seemed really nice. I had a feeling that it will be a long time until the bus came so I decided to make conversation with her. Maybe she's nice like Nestor. She seems like it.

"Hi," I said, and then smiled, to show I was friendly.

She grinned. "Well, hello, young man."

"Are you going to Harlem?" I asked.

"Yes, I am. I have a friend who lives there." Maybe she can tell me a little bit about the nearby area.

"I'm sort of going there. Have you ever heard of a place called Goodman's Groceries?" I asked.

She looked thoughtful. Then she replied, "Oh yes, I used to do my shopping there. The Goodman family employed the business. They were a nice family – a man, his wife, and their son. Unfortunately, their son ran away many years ago. A few years later, the wife died from illness. The husband eventually succumbed to old age. I haven't seen their son since he ran away."

Well, I know the son. Maybe I should write to Nestor about the fates of his parents. "Is it still in business?"

"Goodness no. After Mr. Goodman died, the place fell into disrepair until it was boarded it up some years ago."

Yes! The place is abandoned. That will be my ideal shelter. "Thanks for telling me. I'm Mikey by the way." I don't think Bishop could find me here. It should be safe to give my real name. Besides, what are the chances she's a spy?

"Hello, Mikey. I am Leslie Salzburg. You may call me Mrs. Salzburg." We shook hands.

"So you lived in New York City?" I asked.

"Yes. I've lived here all my life," Mrs. Salzburg replied.

"Oh, I'm just visiting," I sort of lied. It's true that' I'm visiting, but I'm not just visiting.

The bus came, and I found an empty seat. I sat down, and Mrs. Salzburg sat next to me. We talked the whole way about trivial stuff. She told me how her husband died a year ago and about her friend Morgan, the one she's visiting. She also told me a little bit about New York City from when she was a girl and how different it is now. When it was my turn to talk, I couldn't tell the truth. I didn't even want to tell her about Nestor. I don't think he wants to be found. So I lied about how I lived with my father in Nevada, and I've come to New York City to visit some relatives who live near Goodman's Groceries. She bought the story.

I kept my eyes open for the boarded up grocery store. As soon as I saw it, I pulled the cord above me, and the bus stopped. I got up to leave. "Bye, Mrs. Salzburg. It was nice talking to you," I said.

"It was nice talking to you, too. Tell your aunt and uncle I said hi," she said.

"I will," I said. I doubt I will see her again, but she seems really nice. Maybe, if I'm lucky, she'll turn out to be my grandmother, but I know that's not true. She's human. Stockman said something about me not being human before, and Bishop said that he used me as an experiment to see if animals can be transformed to humans. I remember how Bishop slurred the word animal and how he hated aliens. I could be an alien in my former life. There was no way she could end up being my grandmother.

I got off the bus and looked around. The neighborhood was run down. Litter and broken glass was everywhere. Vines grew on the sides of brick apartments among the graffiti and evidence of vandalism. Weeds grew from the cracks of the sidewalks. Nearly every apartment building was boarded up. Goodman's Groceries was not much different. The sign that said "Goodman's Groceries" was faded and coming apart. The windows upstairs and downstairs were boarded up with red graffiti covering the boards of the downstairs windows. The door was locked. Now I need a way to get in.

I used my training from Bishop to kick the door open. It took away since I haven't trained in ten days. By the tenth try, I succeeded. I entered inside. It was so dark that I had to use my flashlight. It was very dusty, and there was some evidence of rats making their home here, but other than that, the inside was in nice conditioning. I didn't have much use for the grocery store. If it still had food, then I would be fine, but I was more interested in the upstairs.

I found the stairs and explored upstairs. The doors inside weren't locked and the furniture wasn't covered in sheets. The bathroom wasn't too pretty. I tried to turn on the faucet, but no water came out. That's going to be a problem along with the fact that there's no electricity. I guess I'll have to live off of water bottles and nonperishable food. I looked through the two bedrooms. One was obviously the parents' bedroom. There were some old wedding photos, but I didn't pay too much attention. Then I found Nestor's old bedroom. This I had fun looking around, especially his old toys from the late forties, early fifties. I could have fun with these. His bed was still in good condition. Actually, everything in his room was in good condition even the blue paint on the walls hasn't faded. I guess after he ran away, his parents couldn't bear to change his room in hopes he'll come back. Too bad he never did. I put my backpack on his bed. I think I'll stay here.

I wanted to by some stationary supplies before it got dark. I'll hold off grocery shopping when I start to run out of food. I grab twenty dollars, a bag of Fritos, and my map. There's small office supply store nearby. I'll go there while I eat my "dinner".

It wasn't a long walk. I just had to walk to the end of the block and turn right. The store was near the corner. I bought a packet of lined paper, a packet of envelopes and a roll of stamps. I gave them to the clerk and he rang up my purchase. Then I quickly got to my shelter and wrote to Nestor, saying how I got to New York City alright, where I'm staying and what his childhood home is like now, and how I found out about the fate of his parents from a nice old lady named Mrs. Salzburg. I put the letter in the envelope and wrote Nestor's address and my new address. However, before I mailed the letter, I decided to write in my journal. I pretty much wrote the same things I wrote to Nestor but with more emotion.

After writing in my journal, I took the letter and headed outside. Goodman's Groceries did have its own mailbox, but since the building has been abandoned for many years, I doubt the mailman would even think of looking here so I mailed it in a large, blue mailbox for the public two blocks away.

As I made my way to Goodman's Groceries, I noticed how it grew dark. The wind blew, and I shivered. An eerie feeling was abounding. Something didn't feel right. I felt like I was being watched. I quickened my pace. I was about to pass by an alleyway when out of nowhere, a man in his early twenties with large bulging muscles decorated with a purple dragon tattoo jumped in front of me. Suddenly, a familiar feeling washed over me.

"Where ya going, kid?" he slurred. I didn't like the way he called me "kid". It wasn't filled with affection like Nestor. He called me "kid" like I was inferior to him.

"Home," I simply said. I knew I had to get away from him. Then three teenagers who all had the same tattoo but in different places emerged from the darkness of the alleyway and circled around me. I knew I was in trouble. I got into a defensive stance.

The man (he seemed to be the leader of the pack) smirked. "Not until we own what you got."

It hit me that they were going to rob me. I still had ten bucks left from my shopping trip still in my jeans pocket. I need those ten bucks! I drew out my Swiss Army Knife and clicked open a knife. Compared to the knives these guys have, mine just looked like a butter knife, but it was the weapon I had.

The leader noticed my weapon. "Hah! That little thing ain't gonna save you." Then he made some kind of gesture, and I prepared to fight, but the three teenagers grabbed me from behind and twisted my arms behind my back. They were surprisingly strong as they restrained me. My only way to free myself was to kick them hard in the nuts, but the leader smiled and stalked towards me. He pulled out a twelve inch blade and pointed it at my throat.

"Fight, and you die," He threatened with a smile.

Crap!

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><p><strong>Haha! Cliffhanger, and you may not get to find out what happens till after August 10. I am soooooooooo evil!<strong>


	22. Devil's Proposal

**Lucky you guys. I got to update again. Turns out, I'm an angel inside. lol! This will probably be my last update for awhile. Disclaimer: don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>I saw my little known life flash before my eyes before realizing I had two choices. I could let them rob me of my ten bucks, or I could fight back. I kicked the leader hard in the nuts. He reeled over in pain causing the gun to leave my throat. I made my choice. I wasn't going down without a fight. I struggled and kicked one of the teenagers hard in the nuts until they managed to let go of me. I ran off. However, they weren't going down without a fight either. They chased me and eventually caught up.<p>

"We ain't done yet, kid," the leader practically spat in my face.

"Well, you are now," I said as I punched him hard in the cheek. Before he had any time to react, I roundhouse kicked him in the ribs.

I turned my attention to the three teenagers and a fight broke out. I mustered up all my fighting skills Bishop taught me to defend myself. However, I didn't stick around long enough to complete Fighting 101, and soon I was being overwhelmed. To make matters worse, the leader joined the teenagers, and he was angry. He was more brutal then the teenagers. I did my best to fight against him, but I was starting to lose the battle.

Then I heard more shouts and realized that four more people joined the fray. At first, I thought they had come to the gang's aid, but when I realized that they were fighting off the guys with the dragon tattoos, I thought I was going to make it out of this alive.

The fight was quick as the four would-be thieves ran off. I turned around to thank the guys who helped me. To my surprise, they looked just like the would-be thieves but without the tattoos. I thought they were just some people, well, you know: people who don't look like they are also going to rob me! They were all male and wearing old, worn out clothes belonging to the category of the the street look or mugger fashion. One identifiable piece of clothing was an old green jacket all four boys were. One boy was black with dreadlocks and smelled like he was smoking weed earlier. Another was white with jet black hair and had a hard look to his eyes. Another boy was Hispanic and was always looking behind his shoulder, scared someone will jump him. The last kid was also white but had blonde hair unlike the Hispanic kid; he looked like he wanted someone to jump him just to get enjoyment out of a street brawl.

I scratched the back of my head. "Umm. Thanks for the help."

The blonde kid cocked his head. "You fight good."

"Thanks," I said. I have a bad feeling about this.

He studied me for awhile, and then he said, "Janko might want use of you."

This is the part where I run. A familiar but bad feeling is associated with the name Janko, and I don't want any part of it even if it sounds familiar. However, the four boys catch me, and one of them hits me hard on the back of the neck, and I pass out.

When I wake up, I found myself being dragged through a hallway with cracks in the wall and there's a weird smell. I catch glimpses of guys with green jackets, similar to those four boys, with hot girls. Two of them are about to get naked. I also noticed that on the back of those green jackets has a red capital T outlined in white.

We reached to a room at the end of the hallway. The black kid knocks on the door. "What is it?" shouts a guy from the other side.

"It's Shark. We have a possible new recruit for you," the black kid says.

Mystery dude mellowed down a bit when he said, "Bring him in."

Shark opens the door, and Blondie, black-haired dude, and Hispanic dude drag me in. I am met with a possibly nineteen-year-old African American man with shoulder length, wavy hair, tied in a manly ponytail. He wore a green jacket, a white T-shirt, a medallion, and jeans. He had piercings on his left ear, his lip, and his right eyebrow. He had numerous cuts and bruises all over his face. He was handling a shotgun as if it were a beautiful girl. I am guessing this is Janko. He stops admiring his gun and takes a look at me. At first, he his disbelieving, and who could blame him? Here he's told about a possible new recruit, and he's presented a lanky kid with no muscle power or any fearful characteristics to him. Janko looks at Shark as if he's gotta be kidding him.

"He don't look tough," Janko says.

Shark defends me. "He is. He managed to hold his own against a gang of four Purple Dragons using ninja moves. He's good."

Janko clenched his fists. "Damn Purple Dragons. Ever since I got thrown into jail, they been stealing my turf. Now I escaped, I'll push them back into their turf." Janko turned to me. "So kid, what's your name."

"Mikey," I said.

"Mikey? Ha. If you join, you gonna need a cool-soundin' nickname rather than that sissy name."

I fumed. I happen to like my name, you know? It's the only thing I can truly remember. Common sense told me not to yell at Janko so instead, I asked, "Join what?"

Janko laughed. "The Turks. That's what. The Turks used to be a big gang – one of the most feared. No one messed wit' us and gotta way wit' it. Made money from selling illegal weapons on the black market." Janko spoke with pride but then his eyes darkened. "But some caped crusader callin' himself Nobody and his alien friends put me behind bars. Not only that but my gang walked out on me. Damn losers!" Then Janko laughed. "Well, I broke out of prison, and I'm brining' back the Turk's, but I gotta lay low for awhile. Police are lookin' for me. Can't even use my warehouse anymore. I'm stuck with this old building." Janko turned to me. "So…you in, kid?"

I stammered. "I – ummm – not sure."

Janko smiled in a desperate attempt to persuade me. "Come on, kid. What you got to lose? Where you live? In some old, abandoned building? You can make loads of cash. Have buddies to look out for ya. Free food. Place to sleep."

This all sounds nice, but in all honesty, I wasn't sure. I don't even know how he figured out where I lived. Probably just some guess. This guy seems familiar, but I don't think I want to tangle with him.

Janko was getting impatient. "Come on, kid. You can make a name for yourself."

That got me. "How?"

Janko smiled. "You be feared on the streets. Shark already told me you could hold your own against four Purple Dragons, and those guys are tough! Living on the streets teaches you a lot, and you might just be famous."

I smiled. I want to know who I am. I want a name for myself. One that I know so when people ask me who I am, I'll tell them, and I'll know it's true, and they'll believe it, too. This might be my ticket into getting that name. Janko seems familiar. Maybe it's a good familiar, and I'm just misinterpreting my feelings. He did mention something about aliens. Maybe I have some connection with them. If so, I can find out through him.

I look at Janko square in the eye. "I'll join."

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><p><strong>Janko and the Turks are really part of the 2k3 series. They are in that episode "Still Nobody" and that was it. I decided to use them but because they were only in one episode, I gave a little background information along with adding some of my own personal touches (like Janko escaping prison) just for the sake of this story. By the way, in the episode, one of Janko's gang members called the Turtles aliens. That's why Janko calls them that, too. Watch "Still Nobody if you need to brush up on Janko and the Turks. So yeah, Mikey's an initiate into a gang. I'm not quite sure how is gang life will be, but I know how it will end. The reason why Mikey was so convinced easily because he is so vulnerable due to his amnesia.<strong>


	23. Mikey's First Robbery

**Sorry for the long wait. I didn't get the chance to update during my two day open window. Vacation and camp was great. During camp, I got to get dirty and get up and close with wild, marine life, and during camp, I met the guy who voices Squidward from _Spongebob Squarepants _at a bar in Burbank, California. Anyway, then I came back from vacation and worked on this a little bit but wasn't sure how to end it. Finally, I came up with an idea. I hope you like it. Disclaimer: don't own the show, only my OC's**

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><p>I learned the names of the group that saved me, and they became the group I hung out with the most. Shark's real name is T.J. Jenkins. (T.J. stands for Thomas James.) He was the tall African American with neck length dreadlocks. He looked like he could be Janko's younger brother. Shark often smokes marijuana to steady his nerves because of the very real possibility of being jumped nearly every time you're outside. Shark is fourteen, but his nickname fits him perfectly: stealthy and sneaky before attacking but sees nothing but red when in the midst of a fight.<p>

The blonde-haired, blue-eyed kid is Troy Johnson, or Hot Shot as we call him. Hot Shot is fifteen and is always cracking up jokes. We get a kick out of each other, always making everyone laugh. However, Hot Shot's jokes are really dirty and sometimes border on being hurtful while mine are usually clean, and I never try to hurt someone's feelings. Hot Shot also finds amusement out of fighting and always rushes into battle or is quick to start a fight. He says he likes to show off his skills. That's why we call him Hot Shot.

The sixteen-year-old kid with jet black hair was nicknamed for his hair color – Jet. His real name is Derek Stallone. He has this hard look to his eyes and contempt for the whole world. He doesn't talk about himself, but I learned from other gang members that his mother ran out on his father when he was three, and his father begin to drink after that, often taking out his anger and blaming his wife's estrangement on Jet. When Jet joined the Turks, he threw him out, calling him a no good piece of shit. Jet was only twelve then.

The last kid was fifteen-years-old. He was that Hispanic kid who always looked like he was afraid someone was going to jump him. His real name is Carlos Rodriguez, but we call him Sting Ray, but he sure doesn't seem like a sting ray. He's more like an abused puppy that's too scared of the world. He's Hot Shot's opposite but similar to Jet. While Hot Shot likes fights and is often going around looking for them or starting them, Sting Ray is terrified of them, and while Hot Shot is always talking and cracking up some joke, Sting Ray keeps his mouth shut. He's similar to Jet in the fact he's been abused, but while Jet is hardened and cold, Sting Ray is fearful and sensitive. I heard rumors that he's been sexually abused by his dad's girlfriend, but no one's sure. Sting Ray never says a word. I don't even know why he's in this gang. He doesn't seem the type to be a gang member.

So these are the guys I hung out with. I don't talk about my past. Well, partly because I don't remember it, and partly because I don't want anyone to know the parts I do remember. They might not believe me, and I'm still paranoid about Bishop finding me. And besides, it feels a little personal, especially the part about finding my individuality and my relationship with Nestor. They don't care. Barely anyone talks about their past. They say that we don't need to talk about it here. We're all family. What happened before you joined doesn't matter anymore.

I'm not an official part of the Turks so I don't have a Turk jacket and a special nickname. I have to prove to them that I have what it takes to be a Turk. Once I'm accepted, I get a jacket and a nickname. We call each other different names to signify our belonging to this gang and our shedding of old ties and past selves. I barely have a past, but I'm thinking of the name Runner. I'm running away from Bishop; I'm running to New York, and I'm running around to find my identity. Also, it turns out that I like to run for fun. I'm really fast and can endure long distances. I think the name fits. For now, they all call me Mike here. I guess they agree with Janko that the nickname "Mikey" is a sissy and babyish name. Truthfully, I wish they called me Mikey, but I can't bring myself to tell them that. First of all, they won't listen to me. Second of all, I want to belong to a group, and it seems like I'll be with Shark, Hot Shot, Jet, and Sting Ray the most so therefore I want them to accept me. I guess I'm social in nature and probably have spent time in large groups in my former life. Third of all, I'm a bit scared of Janko. I have to prove to them that I have what it takes to be a Turk. I really want a name for myself, and this will help me get that name.

So yeah, I have to hang out with these guys and prove to them and Janko I have what it takes to be a Turk. And right now, I'm standing in a corner at eleven at night, waiting for Shark to give me the signal. This is my first task – to rob a bank. Hot Shot said that if we do well, we can grab over a thousand dollars. I only have two hundred dollars which has been diminished to one hundred and ninety bucks. A thousand dollars seemed like a fortune in my perspective. I could use that money.

Right now Hot Shot is hacking into the alarm system and the security cameras of the bank to give us an advantage. As soon as he shuts them down, Shark will whistle and that's when me, Jet and Sting Ray meet up at the backdoor with Shark, who's standing guard to watch out for Hot Shot. For now, me, Jet, and Sting Ray watch out for Shark's back and if we see the cops, we whistle an alarm whistle so Shark and Hot Shot can get out before the cops show up.

There's nothing to do but wait and watch. And for me, think. I never robbed anyone, and even though I can't remember a thing from my past, something from that locked door of my subconscious told me it was wrong, and I shouldn't do it. Maybe I shouldn't do it. Nestor told me to stay out of trouble, and this certainly counts as trouble. However, Janko said that I could find a name for myself if I joined his gang, and I so want a name because currently, I have no identity. That desire for a name is stronger than morals from an unknown past. But robbery? I need money but so do countless other people. It would be wrong to deny them something when I so clearly understand that need. On the other hand, no one's getting hurt. It's not armed robbery, and we need that money to survive. Perhaps, those two facts justify me participating in it.

I hear Shark's whistle. There was no time to think about this. I quickly check my surroundings for the cops. Seeing none, I quickly and quietly run to the backdoor. Jet and Sting Ray soon followed.

"You're fast, Mikey," Shark comments. Jet nods in agreement. Sting Ray just looks at me with his fearful eyes.

"Yeah, I know." I beam in pride.

"Come on," Jet curtly says.

We quietly entered the backdoor. Shark led us through the hallway to the vault room. Halfway there, Hot Shot emerged from a small room and joined us. Normally, he would make some kind of remark about how awesome his hacking skills are, but this is robbery, and we have to be quiet. Even Hot Shot understood that.

It was only a few seconds to the vault room, but it felt like time could not go any slower. I was ecstatic! I could feel the adrenaline rush inside of me, shaking my hands and urging my legs to go faster. I haven't felt this good since I escaped from Area 51! Any previous doubts I had earlier are wiped out from my mind. This is gonna be good!

We stopped at the entrance to the room. Hot Shot picked the lock open, and the door to opportunity was open for us. Quickly and quietly, we entered the vault room. One last obstacle was to find the code to unlock the vault. Jet, who was familiar with robbing this bank a few years ago, knew the code and typed it in. The vault opened, and the money was ours for the taking.

We grabbed stacks of money and stuffed them in Sting Ray's backpack. We couldn't take everything. Sting Ray's backpack only held so much and no one had any other means of carrying large sums of money so we ended up with two thousand dollars before we got the heck out of there.

"Alright. We're done. Let's go," said Shark.

"Awww. Come on, Shark. Can't we steal some more?" Hot Shot whined.

"There's not any more room in that backpack. Put any more and the money will fall out, leaving a trail for the police to follow," Shark explained.

"Fine," grumbled Hot Shot.

Jet closed the vault and locked it while Sting Ray wiped away any traces of evidence. Then we ran to the backdoor and quickly made our exit. Hot Shot remained to turn on the security system and cameras before rejoining us. As soon as he did, he locked the backdoor, and we ran back to the old, run-down house that Janko uses as a hang-out. _Funny, _I thought, _it was so easy. I wonder if our luck will remain._

Apparently, it didn't because halfway to the hang-out, we heard police sirens. We knew it was for us, and we knew that they were catching up fast. How did they find us? Hot Shot disabled the alarms. Maybe, as soon as he fixed them, the silent alarm triggered. It doesn't matter now. Pretty soon, we'll all be caught. Panic flashed on all of the Turks' faces. None knew what to do, but I did.

"Guys!" I whispered-shouted, "Hide in that alleyway and give me a hundred bucks. I got a plan."

They did as they were told. Sting Ray gave me a roll of a hundred dollars, and all four hid behind some garbage cans and bags. I untied the string and spread the money at the end of the alleyway to make it look like we took a short cut and head north (opposite of we were going). Then I found a small rock, grabbed it and hid near the money. Bishop taught me to always mislead the enemy, and that's exactly what I was gonna do.

The police car parked nearby and two cops got out and with flashlights, searched the alleyway. I watched quietly and tried to see what they were doing and saying. I did not want to jump them. It would only cause more problems, and I hoped the others didn't, too. I just needed them to see the money and inspect it before I can further mislead them. Eventually they did.

"Check out this, Bob," said one cop as he shone his flashlight on the hundred bucks.

The other cop walked towards his partner. "Seems like they were clumsy in their theft."

"It looks like they're headed north," said Bob. This was my cue to throw the rock to the end of the alleyway. I did it without making any excess noise. Good thing Bishop taught me how to be stealthy.

The cops heard the rock and took the bait. Bob gathered up the money before following his partner north. Soon they were out of sight, and as soon as the coast was clear. I emerged from my hiding spot. This gave reason for the others to emerge from their hiding spots, too.

"Good thinking, Mike!" Hot Shot whispered-shouted. We weren't put of the clear yet.

"Yeah, nice going," Shark complimented.

"Come on, guys," Jet warned, "They might come back soon."

"Alright. Let's go," Shark said. We ran back to the hang out without any threats from those cops or anyone else.

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><p><strong>Back at the Hang Out<strong>

Janko was pleased with our success and even more pleased with me after Hot Shot told the story of my heroics. As he told Janko, I could not help but beam with pride. I could tell everyone was very happy with me. Even stony faced Jet and fearful Sting Ray.

After Hot Shot's story, Janko turned to me and said, "Nice goin', kid! You just might make a Turk quicker than Jet over here." Jet with his past experience as a street kid and a juvenile delinquent, gained gang membership faster than anyone else.

"Thanks, Janko."

Hot Shot slapped me on the back. "You really are on your way to getting to be a Turk."

Shark laughed. "We should probably start calling you Runner now. You really can run fast."

"You're making a name for yourself, kid," Janko said.

And I could not help but feel butterflies in my stomach and some beautiful feeling wash over me.

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><p><strong>I should now name my inspiration for Sting Ray's character and Jet's character. Sting Ray was inspired by the character Johnny from S.E. Hinton's book <em>The Outsiders <em>and Jet was inspired by the character Dally from the same book. It's a great book. I highly recommend reading it.**


	24. Mikey vs Hot Shot

**This was my favorite chapter to write. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>It's been a few days since I fooled those two cops, and everyone has heard what happened. Only they heard an exaggeration of what happened. Thanks to Hot Shot, and strangely, I don't mind. I really like all the attention I'm getting. I guess I always liked being in the center of attention.<p>

I have to admit. Being in a gang has its perks. I originally joined to get a name for myself, and so far it's working, but being in a gang made me feel more secure. I have a whole army of ruthless teenagers to watch my back in case Bishop finds me (even though they don't know who he is). This thought of not being alone when a mad scientist is after me helps me sleep better at night. I'm glad I joined the Turks as soon as I got to New York City.

Right now, I was just hanging out in a worn out room of the hang out being bored outta my mind. I thought about going to the public mailbox near Goodman's groceries to check if Nestor wrote to me back, but I had to remind myself it's only been a week. It'll take longer for a letter to mail to New York City from a man living in the middle of the Mojave Desert three thousand miles away. Maybe, I should go back to the grocery store and hang out in Nestor's room. Because, I was an initiate, I don't get to live in the hang out so I still keep what little I own back in Nestor's old room.

Then Hot Shot, Jet, Shark, and Sting Ray burst into the room, and Hot Shot shouted, "There's the almighty hero, who thanks to his quick thinking, saved us all from the evil police!" Jet rolled his eyes and flopped on a bean bag while Sting Ray and Shark snickered. I couldn't help but laugh, too. "Hey, Shark?"

"What?" Shark asked.

"What's more powerful and cleverer than Mike over here?" Hot Shot asked.

"I dunno. What?" Shark asked. The tone in his voice suggested that he knew where this was going.

"Chuck Norris!" Hot Shot exclaimed. Shark and Sting Ray laughed and Jet tried to ignore them.

Me, on the other hand was confused. Who's this Chuck Norris guy? So I asked, "Who's Chuck Norris?"

Hot Shot gasped, and everyone looked at me (including Jet) with surprise written all over their faces. "You don't know who Chuck Norris is?" Hot Shot asked with horror.

I shook my head no. I started to grow embarrassed. Obviously, this Chuck Norris dude is very well known by everyone, and right now I feel so stupid for not knowing.

Hot Shot ran over to me, grabbed me by the shoulders, and shook me hard. "Tell me you're not kidding!" he yelled in my face.

"I'm not, Hot Shot! Stop shaking me," I answered. Hot Shot instantly let go, and faked almost passing out on a bean bag.

"Tell him who Chuck Norris is, Shark. I think I'm gonna faint," Hot Shot exaggerated.

Shark rolled his eyes, and explained, "Chuck Norris is a famous actor who starred in a lot of action movies and is also an American martial artist. A lot of jokes are made about him doing the impossible. Most of them emphasize on him roundhouse kicking someone or something. They call those jokes Chuck Norris Facts."

"Oh, okay," I said.

"Hey, Mike?" Hot Shot called over.

"What?" I asked.

"Did you know Chuck Norris counted to infinity twice?"

"Very funny, Hot Shot," Jet said sarcastically. Hot Shot ignored him.

I giggled. Then Shark said, "Oh really. When Chuck Norris rides into the sunset, the sun is actually riding from him."

Then Hot Shot said, "Chuck Norris rejects the Periodic Table of Elements. He only acknowledges the element of surprise."

I didn't really get that one because I don't know what the Periodic Table of Elements is, but I didn't want to ask. Then Jet said, "Hot Shot, fear of you is called stupidity, fear of spiders is called arachnophobia, fear of tight spaces is claustrophobia, and fear of Chuck Norris is called logic."

I laughed hard at that one, especially when Hot Shot's face turned as red as a tomato out of anger in Jet's insult. Hot Shot turned to me and said, "You think that's funny, laughing boy? The only reason that the sound barrier was broken was that it mistook Chuck Yeager for Chuck Norris."

I don't know who Chuck Yeager is, but the comeback came to me easily. "Hot Shot, if that were the case, then the sound barrier would have ceased to exist by now because it mistook a mere mortal for Chuck Norris."

Hot Shot's face was agape and even Jet laughed, and Shark said, "Ooh! He got you good, Hot Shot."

"I think Mike's the new funny one here," Sting Ray shyly said.

"Oh, I don't think so," said Hot Shot slyly, and I knew what was coming next – a Yo Mama showdown. I warmed up to the challenge. After all, that's how Hot Shot fights when his pride has been hurt – through a dirty joke battle. Shark and Sting Ray looked excited. Jet seemed like he could care less about our antics, but he did show slight interest. "Mike, yo mama is so ugly, that when you were born, the doctors slapped her instead."

That joke wasn't bad, but I got a better one. "Yo mama is so fat, that her clothes come in three sizes – large, extra large, and 'Oh my God it's coming!'"

Shark and Sting Ray burst into laughter, and Jet smiled out of amusement. I smiled, and Hot Shot got ready to do real battle. "Yo mama's so fat," he started, "that when God said,' Let there be light,' he told her to move her fat ass out the way first!"

I didn't quite get it since I don't really know about God. Maybe if I had my memories back I would understand. Apparently, the joke was funny to Shark and Sting Ray, and even Jet started paying attention to the ongoing battle. Still, I can't give up. "Yo mama's so old that when I told her to act her age, she died."

More laughter erupted. Then Hot Shot said, "Yo mama's so fat when she steps on a scale it says, 'To Be Continued...'"

I laughed, too, then I shot back, "Yo mama's so poor, that when I asked to use the bathroom, she said, 'Pick a corner'"

Shark and Sting Ray were in laughing fits by now. "Man, Hot Shot," Shark said between giggles, "I think Mike's beginning to take away your reputation. We should crown him as the winner."

"Oh, no you're not," Hot Shot retorted, but I could see that I was pressuring him. Meanwhile, I had tons of yo mama jokes planned out in my head. I was so gonna win this. However, Hot Shot recovered quickly, and said, "Yo mama's so poor that I stepped on her skateboard and she said, 'Hey, get off the car!'"

It was a good save because he still kept the audience laughing and Jet paying attention, but it wasn't good enough. "Yo mama is so ugly that... well... look at you!"

This got even Jet laughing! Sting Ray and Shark were on the floor by now and sounded like they were choking. Hot Shot started at me dumbfounded. No one's ever gotten this far up against him. He was in trouble. I was starting to outdo him which has never been accomplished before. Hot Shot thought for a minute, trying to come up with something. I really pressured him. It never takes him long to come up with a joke or a witty comeback. Finally, he said, "Yo mama is so poor that she can't afford to pay attention!" The joke was so cheesy (even for Hot Shot's standards) that no one really laughed.

However, that cheesiness was what I needed for the final blow. "Yo mama's so stupid that she gave you that joke." Everyone laughed (including Jet) nearly as hard as my last Yo Mama joke. It was over. I won.

After five minutes of insane laughter, Hot Shot said with a stereotypical Japanese ninja master accent, "Well, done. The student has now surpassed the master." Then he did that Asian bow.

For the heck of it, I bowed back. I was now the one with the reputation as the comedy master, and it felt great. No, not just great. It felt like some long lost piece of me, came back and attached itself to the puzzle of my identity. Maybe, through that Yo Mama battle, not only did I gain a new reputation, I gained part of my identity back. Janko said that I will get a name for myself if I joined the Turks, maybe this is what he's talking about because I feel like I'm getting that name, and not only that, I now have friends who will watch my back if Bishop and Stockman come looking for me. I have a sense of security inside of me before I felt so vulnerable because I was suffering from amnesia and had no clue as to who I am – personality-wise and individuality-wise, but by joining this gang, I think I'm on the way to finding security and identity.

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><p><strong>So needless to say, there is no action. This chapter serves to be a charatcer study for my OC's, to further delve into why Mikey would like to be in a gang (thanks to Emslionpride for suggesting security from Bishop), and to have Mikey discover more about his personality and Chuck Norris (out of the Hamato clan, Mikey is the comedian, he has to know who Chuck Norris is). I own none of the Yo Mama jokes. I looked up all of those online, excpet for the last Yo Mama joke, Mikey said. My friend said that one to me. I also own none of the Chuck Norris jokes, except for the one Mikey says about the sound barrier. I also added my personal touches to the Chuck Norris joke Jet says. Needless to say, I am not good at coming up with funny jokes which really sucks. So what do you think? Was it hilarious?<strong>


	25. Mikey's First Jumping

**New chapter! Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>It's been a month since I first joined this gang, and now I'm almost like a legend here. Not only do I have a new rep of being the comedian but a skilled fighter and shooter (thanks to Bishop) – the best one out of the Turks and Janko's previous Turk gang before they turned on him. People whom I don't know but belong to the same gang as me are beginning to know my name, and I'm starting to be known by a few Purple Dragons – are rival gang. I actually might rise to a fully fledged member quicker than any one else. For once in my life, I feel like I'm somebody.<p>

Not only that, but the feel of committing crimes – the adrenaline rush – is fun and exciting. The only crimes we've been committing were robbery of banks and gun stores and participating on the black market for guns. Basically, crimes to help rebuild Janko's gun empire, and no one gets hurt in these crimes. Anyway, the adrenaline rush of trying to get what you want while not being caught feels so good. It's like a mental obstacle course. It keeps me on the edge, trying to figure out how to stay hidden against high tech security equipment, and now that I'm known for my fighting and shooting skills, I'm used in more difficult tasks of the theft operation.

And now, we're on a mission. Some Purple Dragon has been invading our turf and steeling our money. We have to steel it back. Jet said that the Purple Dragon usually likes to hang out around this corner. He is described as five feet tall with a semi-buzz cut hairstyle with red hair, and his dragon tattoo is wrapped around his right arm. Now we're hunting him down. I can feel the adrenaline rush. Janko specifically chose me after Shark vouched for me. I was a great fighter and once fought off four Purple Dragons. If I succeed, I will be even closer to being a Turk.

We stop and see a guy, fitting Jet's description of the Purple Dragon, standing on the corner of two roads where Jet told us. It looks like he's waiting for a drug dealer or something.

"That's him," Jet says coolly.

"Alright then," Shark says. Then he turns to me. "You ready to go, Mike?"

I was shaking with excitement. I really wanted to sneak past this guy and search for his secret hide-out where he was keeping our money. "Yup!" I said.

"Alright then," Shark says and throws me a knife. I catch it and inspect it. We're sneaking past this guy. Why do we need a knife?

"What's this for?" I asked Shark.

"That is a knife. You're gonna use it to threaten that guy with in order to get back our money," Shark explained.

My blood ran cold. We weren't gonna sneak past this guy and raid his hide-out, we were gonna jump him. Not only that, but threaten to kill him. Suddenly, I didn't want to do this. I don't even think I could do this.

Hot Shot noticed my hesitation. "Come on, Mike, you ain't chicken, are you?"

"No," I sputter out. "Just surprise, that's all."

Then Shark said, "You been just doing robberies when no one was around. You proved that you could do that. Now you need to prove that you don't mind hurting people for the sake of our gang. Think you could do that?"

"Ummm? Sure. I guess," I lied. Truth was, I don't think I can.

Jet saw what I was really thinking. "Come one, kid? Do you wanna be a part of a gang or not? Don't you want that name for yourself or not?"

I quickly put on a brave front. "Hell, I want that name."

"Then go and jump that guy!" Jet nearly shouted in agitation.

I sighed. There was no way I was getting out of this. I slowly walked up to the guy, hoping to sneak around behind his back and hold the knife to his throat. The blackness of the night will give me cover. I took one look back at Hot Shot, Shark, Jet, and Sting Ray. I particularly honed in on Sting Ray's facial expression and was surprised to see empathy. He knew what I was going through inside my mind and cared. He had been through this before.

With the knife in my right hand, I quietly stalked over to the lone Purple Dragon. I felt like a cat, but inside myself, I felt like an ocean during a hurricane. All the crimes I've committed involved no innocent people getting hurt. Actually, no one – innocent or guilty – got hurt. Now, I'm about to threaten this guy's life. He never did anything bad to me. He stole, but is it worth threatening his life over? However, I need to prove myself to the Turks that I got what it takes to be one of them. I almost have a name for myself. I need it to be forever a part of me. I need to be somebody. But at what cost?

I snuck up behind this guy, and like what Bishop taught me before, I covered his mouth with one hand and used my other hand to push the knife up to his throat. His eyes were wild with fear and surprise. I was about to say something threatening to scare him into giving back what he stole from us, but no words came out. They didn't need to. Jet, Shark, Hot Shot, and Sting Ray emerged from the shadows and surrounded this guy like a pack of wolves surrounding a moose.

"We know what you did, you son of a bitch," Jet said with killer calm while his eyes spoke murder.

"You've been stealing money from our gang, you punk. Now fork it over," Hot Shot said accusingly.

The Purple Dragon mumbled something. I uncovered his mouth while still keeping a tight hold on him and a blade still touching his throat. The Purple Dragon's eyes narrowed as he said, "I ain't givin' you Turks anything." Then he spit in Hot Shot's face.

Hot Shot wiped the spit off his face. "Oh you're so gonna get it, dude!" Then Hot Shot punched the Purple Dragon hard in the stomach, and I almost lost hold of him as he reeled over from the impact.

Then Jet said, "If you don't give us back what you stole, we'll have our friend here slit your throat." My eyes went wide, and I mentally begged, _Please, Jet, don't make me kill him. I don't think I have what it takes to commit murder_. I knew Jet was serious, and I hoped that the Purple Dragon complied – for his sake and for my sake.

Still, to make a point in hopes that the Purple Dragon will comply, I pressed the blade closer to his throat. Bloody began to trickle down, and I start to grow sick. Unfortunately, the Purple Dragon didn't comply, as he wrestled out of my grip. "Get him!" Jet screamed, and we chased after him. He didn't run far, and Jet was the first to jump on him and wrestle him to the ground. Hot Shot, Shark, and Sting Ray helped pinned him to the ground. I just numbly watched. Jet saw me, and shouted, "Mike, give him a squealer's scar!"

A squealer's scar isn't lethal. It's a scar from your ear to your mouth. I didn't want to hurt him, but it's better than killing him. I numbly walked over and knelt down by his head. Jet held his head steady while I gave him the scar. He screamed in pain (which is the reason why a squealer's scar is called a squealer's scar), and my blood froze up, and bile began to rise. I hurt a human being not out of self defense, which is totally fine by me, but out of greed. I can't believe I did that. I want to throw up.

The Jet threatened the Purple Dragon, "If you don't fork over the money, that scar will be a slit on your throat." I could see the terror in the Purple Dragon's eyes. I wanted to shout at Jet to stop it, to let him go, but I couldn't. I didn't know what to say. And I was afraid.

Thank God, that this time the Purple Dragon listened, and begged, "Okay, okay. I'll give you your money back. Please don't kill me."

Shark, Sting Ray (whose face looked saddened), and Hot Shot got off of the purple Dragon. Jet released his head but sat on the guy as he tried to dig through his pockets for our cash. I just watched. Finally, he pulled out a wad of cash. "It's all the money I got. The rest I spent on drugs. Honest!" he begged.

Jet looked skeptical and counted one hundred dollars. He was silent for five minutes, and then he said, "You swear you don't have an more of our cash?"

"I swear, dude!" he said.

"Alright," Jet said, as he got up. "If we ever catch you stealin' our money, we seriously will kill you.

"Okay, dude," the Purple Dragon said and then ran away.

"Alright, we did it!" Hot Shot celebrated.

"Let's go tell Janko that we won't be seein' him around," Shark said, "and oh, Mike, nice job on threatening that son of a bitch with a knife and giving him the scar. Thanks to you, we got back what was stolen. Janko will be thrilled when he hears about this."

"Thanks," I muttered even though I didn't mean it. Everyone was in a celebratory mood, except Sting Ray who looked despondent. I wasn't in a celebratory mood. I felt lower than dirt. I no longer felt like the self I was becoming, and my newly discovered world was crashing down on me.

And I don't know if I could survive the crash.

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><p><strong>Mikey threatened a defenseless person with a knife and cut him up. Something that goes against what he was taught, but he doesn't remember, but he's starting to get his sense of morals back. So what will Mikey's future hold? Will he still want to join the Turks or will he want to leave? Only I know.<strong>


	26. Change of Heart

**Okay, now last chapter's question will be answered. Read on to find out. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>It's only been two days since the jumping, and already, I can't stop thinking about what happened. I constantly tried to reason with myself that he's a purple Dragon who stole from us not some innocent person. However, as much as I try to use this line of reasoning, I can't help but feel guilty. That guy was defenseless against five, and is death really a worthy punishment for stealing? It wasn't like I attacked him out of self-defense like I did with those four Purple Dragons a month ago. Damn it! I don't know what to do. If I don't like what we've done to this guy, chances are there they'll make me do things that I might not agree with. I'll have to quit, and if I do quit, I won't have a sense of security from Bishop or name for myself. However, if I don't, I might have to do things that are against my budding sense or morals. This whole issue has been affecting my sleep, too. Lately, I get fuzzy dreams (or maybe distant memories) of some old person teaching someone who sounds a lot like me stuff about honor, and sometimes I get nightmares of the jumping. I wish they would all stop and let me sleep. I need a coma.<p>

A creaking noise sounded behind me, and I whipped my head around, only to see Sting Ray, standing by the doorway. "Oh, hey, Sting Ray. What's up?"

"Hey," Sting Ray said shyly. He closed and locked the door behind him and walked over to me. He sat down in a beanie bag. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Okay," I said. This is unusual. Sting Ray rarely talks.

"When you were asked to threaten that guy's life and give him a scar, you didn't want to, did you?" Sting Ray blurted out. How did he know?

"No," I said. For some reason, I wasn't afraid to admit this to him. If it were anyone else, I might have lied. "How did you know?"

Sting Ray shrugged, "I saw the look on your face. I could tell you didn't want to. Also, I've been in your shoes before. I was asked to hurt someone, and I didn't want to."

"Then how come you did it?" I asked.

"I needed to belong, to have someone watch my back. Janko provided me with that offer, and I happily took it. I was scared if I was left on my one so I hurt someone in order to have a sense of security," Sting Ray explained. His story is similar to mine.

"Who were you scared of?" I asked.

I didn't expect Sting Ray to answer, but he did. "My dad has a girlfriend. She's always touching me in places I don't want to be touched, and I'm scared she might kill me or hurt me if I make her stop. My dad died a year ago. He never knew about it. If he did, he would have stopped her."

So the rumors are true. "Oh, okay. Do you regret joining?"

Sting Ray shrugged. "At first, it seemed like a great idea. I had nowhere to go, and if I went home, I might be sexually abused. Now, I'm not so sure. I'm starting to learn that finding security within others is a bad idea. If something happens to them, what are you gonna do? And besides, they might use that security against you. I need to find security within myself, but I'm not strong enough to do that. What about you? Are you in it for security?"

I nodded my head. I didn't want to explain security from whom.

Then Sting Ray said, "You don't have to tell your story. You're the first one to know my story. Listen, I'm not quite strong enough to find security within myself, and I've been in this gang for too long. But you're stronger than me, and it's not too late for you to back out. You don't need us to protect you because in the end, none of the Turks will truly got your back, and besides, do you really wanna waste your life committing crimes and hurting other people. That's not you, and it's not me, but it's too late for me but not for you."

I thought about what Sting Ray said. However, it was too hard to think. I need some fresh air. I got up. "Thanks, Sting Ray. I need to think about what you said."

"Ok, you're welcome, and think hard."

"Yeah, sure," I said as I exited the door. I walked down the hall and down the stairs. I think I'll take a walk to Goodman's Groceries. Maybe Nestor's letter came in the mail today.

For the fifteen minute walk, I thought about what Sting Ray said. Sting Ray does have a point: you should always have security within yourself rather than relying on others. That's what I haven't been doing. No doubt about it that Bishop and Stockman are planning away to find me and drag me back to Area 51, and what they could possibly do to me as punishment for running away scares the shit out of me. That's part of the reason why I joined the Turks, but they were using that reason against me (and my wanting of a name) to make me hurt and potentially kill that guy. I decided that no matter what he did, he didn't deserve to be threatened with a knife. Perhaps, I should learn to strengthen myself physically and mentally – find out who I am. If I do that, no longer will I have to rely on the Turks, but I will better be defended against Bishop and Stockman. I think somewhere along the way, I lost sight of my real reason for coming to New York City.

But that's easier said than done, and that doesn't solve half the reason I joined the Turks. The main reason that I joined was too find a name for myself. I haven't been on the drug for awhile so my memories should be coming back, but they haven't. Or maybe they have, but they're really fuzzy and the voices are blurred. I guess that's a side effect for being on the drug for so long. I sighed. I need to know who I am, and I joined for that reason. Maybe I should stay but try and find security within myself. Knowing who I am will leave me mentally prepared for Bishop.

I turned around the corner into the street where Goodman's Groceries is. The wind blew, giving me chills, so I just pulled my jacket closer to me. As soon as I reached the grocery store, I checked in the old mailbox nailed on the brick wall, and to my luck, inside was a letter from Nestor. I quickly grabbed and went inside. I climbed the stairs to Nestor's bedroom where I was staying. I jumped on the bed and tore open the envelope. It read:

_Dear Mikey,_

_So I guess you made it to New York alright, and you found Goodman's Groceries without any problems. That's great! I just hope you're staying out of trouble. How are you doing on your mental journey? Did you find anything about yourself?_

_I wanted to thank you for letting me know about what happened to my parents. Living my life as a runaway, I always wondered how they were doing, but I could never find out for myself. You know why. Honestly, I'm not surprised that Goodman's Groceries became rundown and abandoned, and truthfully, I'm glad it is. Yeah, sure I made memories there, but to me, it's a sign that I broke away from all that conformity which is now broken and dead. But enough about personal symbols, I just hope it's safe enough for you to camp out in. That place hasn't been taken care of for years. I just hope it doesn't collapse on you. That would be bad._

_Things have been quiet back in Nevada ever since you left. Jetta misses you. She lies down by your bed, and whines at her food dish for your dog treat pizza or whatever you call it. Like Jetta, I also miss you, especially your cooking. It was nice talking to someone other than a dog. You are a great kid, and I wonder what you are really like when you have your memories and your identity. I'm sure you're just as great maybe better._ _If you do ever find out about your family, tell me about them. I would like to meet them someday. Well, that's all I got to say for now. Write back asap!_

_Your friend,_

_Nestor_

I read Nestor's letter over and over again, trying to find answers to my questions. I'm second guessing joining this gang, but how will I found out who I am? Nestor loved his parents, but he couldn't agree with their values so he left to find his own way. Parents are supposed to protect your kids, and Nestor left that security blanket as a teenager! And look at him now, he's doing fine. Parents are supposed to teach their kids morals and values which along with the name that is bestowed on their kids by them becomes a part of who the kids are. Nestor didn't agree with those morals and values so he ran away and found his own way, and Nestor is still doin' fine. Maybe that's what I need to do. I need to leave the gang and find my own way and inner security, and somehow just like Nestor I'll be alright.

I now know what to do.

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><p><strong>What do you think?<strong>


	27. Breaking Away

**School starts tommorrow. T_T so updates might be slow. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>It was midnight. Hot Shot, Shark, Jet, Sting Ray, and I were assigned by Janko to hold up and rob a convenience store for some supplies. My plan was too stop them, and then leave this gang. I no longer wanted any part of it, but first, I had to walk along the road to meet them at the meeting point – a stop sign by the corner where the grocery store is located. The walk felt eerily, and to make matters worse, the nervousness in my stomach made it worse. I clenched my Swiss Army Knife. I had a feeling Jet was gonna pull a knife on me and threaten to seriously injure or kill me if I don't do what he says.<p>

The stop sign was in sight, and I could make out everyone there. I crossed the street and was greeted by Hot Shot. "Whassup, Mike?"

I tried to keep my cool and shrugged my shoulders. "Eh, not much." I walked over to Sting Ray and slapped him on the back as a greeting, but it was only a camouflage as I whispered in his ear and said, "Thanks, Sting Ray."

His face lit up in recognition and gratitude.

"Okay," Jet began, "Now that we're all here. Here's the plan. Janko wants us to rob this place for cash and supplies which mainly includes food and whatever else is useful. Currently, there's only one employee – a short woman at the counter. Due to her size, she should be easy to take down. Hot Shot, you'll pickpocket the backdoor lock and take down the security cameras. Then let Mike in. Mike, you'll use your fighting skills to knock down the woman unconscious before she sees you. Give us the all clear and that's when Sting Ray, Shark, and I come in. Understood?"

Now that's where I speak my mind. An innocent woman will be hurt if I don't stop them. "Ummm, maybe we shouldn't do this," I nervously said. Everyone except Sting Ray gave me incredulous looks.

"Don't tell me you're trying chickening out on us like last time," Jet growled.

"No, I just don't feel like this is the right thing to do," I said calmly.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Shark asked.

"Come on, I joined this gang for security and to get a name for myself. But after that incident with the Purple Dragon, I don't want to be known as a killer and a criminal. I want to be known as something better than that, and it turns out that I can take care of myself. I just need to trust myself."

Jet pushed me. "You joined. You think you're getting out?"

"This isn't right, and FYI, I'm just an initiate. I'm not officially a part of this gang."

"You may be just an initiate, Mike, but you don't get out that easily," Jet threatened.

I pulled out my Swiss Army Knife. "I can get out whenever I want to, and I'm not gonna let you rob that store and hurt that woman. Oh and by the way, my name's Mikey not Mike." I felt quite proud of myself after that last statement.

However, Jet pulled a gun on me, pointing it at my heart, and I felt the impending sense of being screwed. Jet smiled evilly. "I don't think so, Mike."

Sting Ray, and even Hot Shot and Sting Ray were shocked at Jet's actions. They never took him for a killer. Now I need to figure a way out of this. A knife in a gun fight isn't the most effective thing in the world. Then I had an idea. I grabbed Jet's wrist and tried to wrestle the gun out of his hand. A few shots were fired but none hit any of us. Jet and I were down on the ground throwing random punches and trying to take hold of the gun without accidently firing it. Hot Shot, Shark, and Sting Ray just looked on with disbelief and fear.

_BANG!_

A bullet landed in my arm, and I screamed in pain. Jet smiled as he took advantage of my distraction and landed a punch on my right cheek. I quickly got in focus and tried to ignore the pain, but it was so hard. I punched Jet back. Then police sirens and an ambulance siren were heard in the distance, and every one ran. Sting Ray was torn between helping me or running away with the gang, but Jet grabbed his arm and forced him away from me. I didn't have the energy to run nor would I, and even if I could, I might not want to because I won't get medical attention. The sirens were getting closer, and I was bleeding fast.

Finally, four police cars and an ambulance pulled up by the curb. The doors opened, and one cop noticed me and ran over to me. I got a quick look at him before my mind. He was male with short, brown hair, neatly combed back. He looked like to be in his late forties. He was definitely not one of the police officers I tricked a month ago.

"Hey, son, are you alright?" he asked. Why did he call me son? Is he my dad?

"No," I said between clenched teeth.

"Somebody get the paramedics!" he shouted. Two paramedics with a gurney came rushing over.

With the help of that cop, the paramedics lifted me onto the gurney and rolled me into the ambulance. The cop hopped in with me. "Listen," he said in a soothing voice, "you're going to be alright. The paramedics will take care of you."

One of the paramedics put some kind of breathing mask on me so I only nodded yes. For some reason, I believed him. I was rushed to the hospital and all the while, the cop talked to me in a soothing voice. He told me that I was going to be alright, and he told me about himself and his wife Nora, his life on the police force, his partners, and funny real life stories. I even found out his name was Officer John Brown. For some reason, this guy reminded me of Nestor. I wonder if Nestor looked like this guy and acted like him in his younger years.

Finally, I arrived at the hospital. "Alright, son, you're here. I'll have to leave you now, but I'll be back to check up on you." Officer Brown left, and I was rushed to the ER. The paramedics were talking fast, and more people –doctors and nurses – showed up. Their mouths were moving, but I don't know what they were really saying – something about my arm and where the bullet hit. I was rolled into a room and placed on the table. Someone pulled out a needle, and I shivered at the sight of it. I remembered my newfound fear of needles. Are these guys with Bishop? Will they turn me in?

The nurse injected me with whatever was in the needle, and my mind grew fuzzy until blackening out. The numbness was a nice welcoming change.

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><p><strong>Cliffhanger!<strong>


	28. Waking Up

**This was orginially suppose to feature Officer Brown, but I decided to throw in a couple of memories and have Mikey ramble about his thoughts on them. Officer North will be featured in the next chapter. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>The darkness changed into a scene like an asleep person beginning to dream a dream controlled by the subconscious, and I think I'm dreaming. It must be, but it's all fuzzy. In my dream there are two green monsters but one of them has an orange band on their head and the other has a purple band on their head. I'm not sure where they are, but my mind automatically said it was in an underground lab. The purple banded creature was using a cotton ball to wipe something on the orange banded creature's arm. Ointment, maybe? I can't be sure, but as soon as the purple banded creature finished. He affectionately slapped the orange banded creature on its lumpy back (it looks like a shell), said something, and then the orange banded creature said something, smiled, and left.<p>

Then the scene changed to the orange banded creature strapped on the table in a white laboratory. Like the previous dream, everything was fuzzy, but there was only one thing that was crystal clear.

Bishop.

He was using a needle to take something from the creature. It was blood! It was hard to see, but the creature squirmed. He was scared! And Bishop couldn't care less. He was impatient and annoyed with him. I wanted to run over and stop Bishop, push him away from the creature. I wanted to scream at Bishop but nothing came out of my mouth. I wanted to run, but my legs were glued to the ground. I felt the desire to run and scream rise in me, and felt the fear in the creature. I wanted to run to Bishop – no, escape from Bishop. I wanted to do both, but even if I could, I can't. Bishop left with a satisfied smile, and the darkness crept up behind me and wiped out the dream until I was fully immersed in it.

I blissfully slept for an eternity.

But the eternity ended, and the darkness behind my vision started to get brighter and there was this annoying beeping noise in the background. Ugh! It's so annoying! Someone turn it off, or I'll destroy it! But the beeping kept going, almost as if it were mocking my unanswered pleas. A throbbing pain in my right arm throbbed in sync the beeping noise. I wanted to go back to sleep to where I am unconscious and can't hear or feel all of this, but the light behind my eyes implored them to open, and I knew I can't escape it so I wake up to a blinding white light, and I instantly squeeze my eyes shut and hope this will tell m brain to let me go to sleep.

However, my brain forces me to stay awake and that means opening my eyes so this time, I put my left hand to shield my eyes as I slowly opened them. My eyes begin to adjust the clean white room, and then I'm able to expose my eyes. I take in my surroundings and current situation. My right arm (the one that got shot) is in a cast with an IV attached to it. I also discovered the source of the beeping – a heart monitor. The lines and beeping is steady and as much as it is annoying, it means that I am alive. I also notice that I am no longer wearing my clothes, but I'm wearing hospital clothes, and my left wrist has a blue paper bracelet on it. I am also lying down on a funny looking bed. I look around me, and I see that I am in a white room with no windows but a closed door and a TV. I am the only one in here.

I was in a hospital room. For a minute there, I thought I was back in Area 51, but when I saw the TV, I knew this was just an ordinary hospital. Bishop never had time for little luxuries like TVs in a hospital room. I sighed in relief. I was going to be okay as long as they don't turn me in, but why would they? Area 51 is a government secret lab base. They don't broadcast an Area 51 runaway experiment on the media. That would be stupid. I should be safe.

Now with that mystery solved, I was bored so I used the radio to turn on the TV, but unfortunately, the radio doesn't work for some reason. I guess the batteries are dead. Now how am I gonna survive boredom? I'll die by it before Janko kills me.

Speaking of Janko, I remembered that I sort of broke up from the gang. Damn! Janko's gonna kill me. Literally! I remember Janko telling me that he nearly killed two gang members for treachery, and he would have done it if an old man didn't see and call the cops the first gang member he tried to kill and if Nobody didn't save the other traitor he tried to kill. I'm so screwed!

Hold on! Don't think so negatively. I was trained by a secret government agent in weaponry and martial arts. I can fight Janko. All Janko knows is street fighting and weaponry, and I have a better aim and know more about weapons than he does. I can fight him and win any time! I'll be fine. Didn't I say earlier that I need to trust myself and find inner security?

Happy that I convince myself of this fact, I try to remember the two dreams I had. I barely remember the first one. Maybe because it was either so short or it was the first one, but I can clearly remember the second one. Mainly: The fear of Bishop and the needle and the wanting to stop Bishop while at the same time escape from Bishop. It was like I had the emotions of myself and of that orange banded creature like we were two in one. Is that even possible? Well, maybe in dreams it is but not in real life. However, I wonder why it was so fuzzy? Once in awhile I get these really fuzzy dreams that always leave me wondering the next day but oddly enough give me a sense of self-sureness like inside of me is a puzzle and each fuzzy dream is a missing puzzle piece. I used to get strange dreams back at Area 51 before I was forced to take that weird drug. Are those dreams really those images? Am I getting them back?

I could only hope so.


	29. Officer Brown

**Another chapter. Minnieshon, to answer both your questions. Despite being almost three years since Mikey's capture, his family still hasn't given up looking for him even though they have no leads whatsoever. Your second question - the drug he was forced to take not only prevents memories from coming back but makes it nearly impossible to recall memoires that have already came back before taking the drug. It also has to do with the fact that Mikey (before he was transformed) was pretty cluelss and a bit naive, and those traits have carried on after his transformation. The third reason, is his unconscious desire to become human that originated when he was a mutant turtle and wished that he could do things humans can do like walk in the sunshine and go surfing. I'm pretty sure all the turtles at one pint or another wish they could become human. That's part of the reason why it's hard to piece together that he his the orange banded creature in his dreams. I hope that answers your questions.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>Thirty minutes later a nurse came in. "Oh, you're awake!" she said cheerfully. "How do you feel? Does your arm hurt?"<p>

"Uh, I feel fine other than the throbbing pain in my arm," I said.

"I'll give you some painkillers for that. Do you have any medical allergies?" she asked.

I tried to rack up my tiny memory for any allergies and couldn't think of any so I replied, "No."

"Okay then. I'm just going to check you over and then I'll run off and give you some painkillers. Do you have a name?" she asked.

"Michelangelo, Mikey for short," I replied.

"Last name?" she asked.

"I don't have one," I admit shyly. She gives me a weird look.

"Okay. Do you have a parent or guardian we can call?" she asked.

I thought about telling her Nestor's phone number, but he lives so far away that he could never come to a New York Hospital quickly enough so I said, "No."

She looks at me strangely, and honestly, who could blame her? Here shows up a kid with a gunshot injury who has no last name and no parent or guardian. She must be thinking "orphan" in her mind. However, the nurse checks over me (her name tag reads Nurse Jackie)and is pleased that my vital signs look healthy. She then exits to find the painkillers. Fifteen minutes later, she shows up with not only painkillers bit Officer Brown behind her. "Mikey," she said, "you have a visitor."

"Okay," I said. Jackie gave me a cup of water and two pills and instructs me to swallow them. I do and then drink the rest of the water.

"They should start working in fifteen minutes," Jackie says. She takes my cup and disposes it in a nearby trash can. She then leaves my room with Officer Brown.

Officer Brown takes a chair and pulls it over to my bedside. At first we don't say anything. I don't know what to say. My memory of him feels so hazy. Officer Brown clears his throat and says, "First I might ask: how are you doing?"

"Umm, fine except that my arm hurts but Nurse Jackie gave me some painkillers," I said.

"That's good to here. I came here not only to see how you are doing but to ask you a few questions about the night you were shot. First may I ask: what is your full name?" Officer Brown asks.

"Michelangelo, but I like to be called Mikey. I don't have a last name, but I think I do," I explain. Officer Brown writes that down but gives me a funny look but it's not as apparent as Nurse Jackie's. Maybe he's dealt with kids like me before.

"Okay, then. Can you tell me anything about what happened that night you were shot?" he asked. His eyes were trusting, and I don't want to be a criminal so I confessed.

"I was an initiate in this gang called the Turks. There were four boys besides me – Sting Ray, Hot Shot, Jet, and Shark but their real names are Carlos Rodriguez, Troy Johnson, Derek Stallone, and T.J. Jenkins. They were already part of the gang. We were going to hold up a convenience store and rob them, but that night, I decided that what we were doing wasn't right, and I didn't want to be a criminal so I told them and tried to convince them to stop. Jet and I argued, and he threatened me with a gun. I still didn't want to rob that store so I found an opening and tried to wrestle the gun away from him. A few shots went off, but nothing was hit. Then a fourth shot was fired, and it hit my arm, but we didn't stop fighting until the police sirens sounded. They all ran, but Sting Ray looked like he wanted to help me but Jet forced him away from me. Then you guys came." Officer Brown wrote down everything I said.

"Can you describe each of the boys?" he asked.

I did, and gave him each boy's detailed description. He wrote it all down. Afterwards, he said, "Well, it seems like despite being part of a gang, you seem like a good kid. You saw what was wrong and made the right choice even though it nearly cost you your life. Has your parents visited you yet?"

"I don't have any parents," I said. I don't bother to add "yet" or explain that if I do, I can't remember them.

"Legal guardians?" he asks.

"No," I said.

"Are you living in on the streets?"

"Close. I live in an abandoned grocery store," I explained.

"You know. I and I'm sure the hospital can't quite release you without a parent or legal guardian. In your case, they would probably have to send you to a foster home," Officer Brown explained.

"A foster home?" I asked.

"Yes, it's a private place where a child is placed under temporarily if he or she cannot be with the biological parents or has no biological parents. Like I said before, it's temporary until a permanent placement can be made such as the child being reunited by their biological parents, being adopted by a biological relative, foster parent, a trusted adult that the child knows but is not related to, or a loving and caring stranger," Officer Brown explained. "In fact, my wife and I are foster parents. Currently, we don't have anyone staying with us but who knows, you might be staying with us."

"Okay," I said softly. As much as it sounded better than staying in a gang or in an abandoned grocery store, it sounded scary.

Officer Brown seemed to notice how fearful I looked, and soothingly said, "I know it seems scary. That's a normal reaction from most kids, but I assure you, it's not as scary as it seems. Foster parents are well certified by the state to care for minors."

I only nodded.

Officer Brown looked at the time. It was 12:00 pm. "Well, I hate to leave you alone, but I have to go down to the NYPD and further investigate your case." He got up. "Take care, Mikey."

"Thanks. Oh, by the way, will I go to jail?" I asked. I mean I did commit some crimes in the past, and we were going to rob a store. Doesn't that count as attempted robbery?

"In your case, no. You wanted to break out, but the only reason you showed up that night was to prevent a robbery and an innocent woman being hurt. Your friend Jet will if we catch him. He'll most likely be charged with attempted murder – first or second, I'm not sure – and attempted robbery. Your other friends will probably be charged with attempted robbery. We're not looking at past crimes here," Officer Brown explained. "However, if we do catch them, you'll still have to show up to court to testify."

"Okay, I can deal with that," I said, happy that I wasn't going to jail. I heard stories of what it's like to be in jail, and none of them were all too appealing.

"Take care, Mikey. If you do have to be sent to a foster home, maybe I can vouch for ya."

"Alright." Officer Brown seems nice. I wouldn't mind living with him and his wife.

"Bye," he said and left through the door. I yawned. It's been a long day, and I have nothing better to do so I made myself comfortable and took a nap.


	30. Foster Home

**I'm so sorry for not updating! I've been so busy. Second day of school and I'm already assigned a project in English. Well, that's AP for you. To make it up, this chapter is a bit long. Hope you like it. Disclaimer: I don't onw Ninja Turtles**

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><p>I was in the hospital for a couple more days before they decided to release me, but I have to come back in three weeks to get the cast removed. However, since I don't have any parents, legal guardians, or other family members, a social worker had to come and get me and stick me in a foster home. Suddenly, the hospital seems like a luxury hotel.<p>

I was waiting (with my regular clothes on, thank God and they even gave me back my Swiss Army Knife) in a nearby waiting room when a woman in her forties with blonde hair pulled in a ponytail and circular-framed glasses and wearing a gray skirt and jacket with a white blouse came up to me. "Hello," she said, "I'm Annie Howards. Are you Michelangelo?"

"Yes," I said while studying her. Throughout my whole remembered life, Nestor and Jetta were the only ones that I truly trust and maybe Sting Ray and Officer Brown. Is this woman trustworthy? She has that corporate look.

"I'm your social worker. Because you have no legal guardian or parents, I am assigned to take you to a foster home."

"Uh, okay," I said, remembering what Officer Brown said about them earlier.

Annie saw my facial expression and smiled. "Don't worry. I promise that the home you are going to is a very good one. The foster parents are Nora and John Brown. John Brown is a member of the New York Police Department, and Nora Brown is a teacher at a local high school that helps give troubled teenagers a second chance."

I raised my eyebrow. I knew John Brown. Suddenly, I relaxed. At least I was going to a place inhabited by someone familiar and kind. Annie noticed my change in disposition. She seemed happy about that. "Well, then," she said, "let's go."

I followed her to the hospital parking lot to her black car. She opened the back door for me, and I climbed in although buckling myself with only one arm proved to be quite a hassle, but I managed to succeed.

Annie closed the door and climbed in on the driver's side. She drove away from the hospital while I stared out the window. The ride was in silence which I learned that it was quite unusual for me, and normally I would want to talk to her. But today was an exception for some reason.

I watched the landscape change from tall skyscrapers to run down neighborhoods to a very nice-looking city suburb. This area seems like where the middle class live. A few children played on the sidewalks and on the tiny lawns and families chilled out on the patios. Annie drove through this neighborhood until she got to the end of the block. She parallel parked on the curb by this nice looking brick house with a tiny green lawn with hydrangea bushes. A woman with brown hair tied up in a ponytail walked down the driveway to greet us. I unbuckled myself, and Annie opened the door. This woman must be Nora. She seems nice. I wonder where Officer Brown is.

Annie and Nora talk for a bit while I lean on the car. Then Nora turns to me and says, "Hello, Michelangelo. I'm Nora. My husband told me about you." She held out her hand to shake it.

I never met her, but I get the feeling that I could trust her, and I know a little bit about her from Officer Brown's stories. I shake her hand. "Hi!"

Annie smiled. "Well, it seems like I should get going." Then she handed Nora some papers. Probably papers from the hospital and how I need to go back in three weeks to get this stupid cast removed. I kinda want my right arm back. Good thing I'm left handed. "Bye, Michelangelo," Annie says. I say goodbye, too, and then she gets in her car and drives off, leaving me with Nora.

"So, Michelangelo, do you have a nickname you prefer to be called?" Nora asks.

"Yeah, I like to be called Mikey," I say.

"That's a cute nickname," Nora says.

Teenage boys are supposed to groan and protest, but my first feeling was gratitude. Then I had the urge to brag about it in someone's face. Someone close to me, but there's no one there so I just say, "Thanks, Mrs. Brown."

"You can just call me Nora. Now, then, Mikey, let's go inside and get you all situated."

"Okay." I follow Nora into the brick house. I have to admit, it's nice. It's not like Nestor's home – messy and open. Nora's home is very clean but a little cramped. You think a foster home would be big enough to hold lots of kids. Either way, it feels like…a home. The same feeling I got after living with Nestor for a week.

Nora leads me upstairs to an empty room at the end of the hallway. She opens the door, and inside is a bunk bed with plain and simple sheets. The walls were white, and there was a wardrobe, a nightstand, and dresser. A wooden fan was fastened to the ceiling. A window looked out to the street behind this street. There was nothing fancy about this room. It was neutral so it can house many kids with many different personalities and tastes and appease both genders.

"This is your room, Mikey," Nora said.

"It's nice," I said.

"Thank you. My husband and I restored it a month ago. I noticed you didn't bring any bags. You don't have anything?" Nora asks.

I shook my head. "I live in an abandoned grocery store called Goodman's Groceries. There I have some stuff. I was wondering if maybe later, I could go there and gather my stuff and bring it back here," I say nervously.

Nora smiled. "Sure. John can take you there after dinner."

"Great! Speaking of which, where is Officer Brown?"

"He's at work. He should be back soon. Oh, and since now he's responsible for you, you can just call him John now," Nora explained.

"Okay."

"Well, I'll let you get situated in. Bathroom is next to the stairs, and John and my room is at the other end of the hallway. I'll be downstairs making dinner. Do you like pizza?"

My face lit up. "I love pizza! I don't really care what's on it."

Nora chuckled. "That's great!" Then she left me for the kitchen downstairs.

I walked inside and sat on the bed. The mattress seemed comfortable. I looked around, taking in every detail of the room. It vaguely reminds me of Nestor's guest room, and I could not help but remember all the rooms I stayed in. From a room-like prison cell in Area 51 to Nestor's old room at Goodman's Groceries. Sometimes I crash in one of the rooms in Janko's apartment. Now here I am in this room in the house I'm suppose to temporarily live in until someone adopts me. Then it'll be another room I'll stay in. Just thinking about this made me realized that I'm just wandering around place to place searching for identity, and not just identity, but a family or at least someone I know and trust whom I can call family or at least a friends – somewhere I belong. I never did belong in all the rooms I stayed in the past (Nestor's being the closest to being called home). Will this be permanent? Or will I just be swept away into another room? I don't know. And that's what scares me.

I sighed. There wasn't much to do for me to get situated. Once I have all my stuff, I can organize myself better so I leave this room and turn off the lights. I climbed down the stairs and head to the kitchen. Maybe I can show off my awesome cooking skills to Nora. I'm sure she could use the help.

"Hey, Nora," I said and she turns around to face me, "You need any help? I can make one bad pizza."

She laughs. "Really? You need to show me sometime. The pizza is almost done. You can set up the table. John should be home in fifteen minutes."

She shows me where the plates, silverware, and glasses are, and I set up the table. I also pour in some milk for each and every one of us. The oven beeped, and Nora took out the cheese pizza, cut it up, and let it cool. And true to her word, fifteen minutes later, John was at the front door. When he saw me, he greeted me warmly. "Hello, Mikey. It looks like the hospital deemed you okay to leave, and it looks like you're staying with us."

I smiled. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Don't worry. Every kid is scared and nervous on the first night, but soon they begin to relax. You'll fit right in." Then he messed up my hair. That's the first time I've been shown some kind of affection since Nestor. I felt warmth in my heart.

John changed into regular clothes before dinner, and by the time he came down, the pizza was cool enough for consumption. John and Nora only took a maximum of two slices while I on the other hand took almost half the pizza. I have to admit, it was very good. Nora has some cooking skills here. Maybe we should have a cook off.

They, well, mostly Nora who knows little about me, tried to engage me in small talk. They asked me things like what are my interests, dislikes, what I'm like, and things like that, never about my past and for that, I was grateful. I guess years of experience have taught them to let the kid bring up the topic of their personal history.

I answered all their questions the best I could since like them, I'm learning about myself, too. I also asked them similar questions, too. Some of them were stupid like what's their favorite color, but they answered it with enthusiasm. A few times I made them laugh, and that brought satisfaction to me. I like to make people laugh. And Nora and John are really nice people. I wouldn't mind staying with them.

After dinner, as we're clearing the dishes, Nora said to John, "John, Mikey mentioned that he's been living at Goodman's Groceries and his things are there. Could you drive him there so he could pick them up?"

"Sure, no problem," John said.

"Thanks, John," I said.

And so later that evening, John drove his police car with me in the passenger seat. I must say it feels kinda weird being in a cop car. I guess a month of being in a gang makes you feel that way.

"Did you know Goodman's Groceries used to be a locally famous grocery store?" John said in attempt to make small talk. "It went out of business years ago when the owner of the restaurant died and his son was never around to take over."

"Yeah, I know," I said. Luckily, John never asked how I knew. I didn't want to tell him about Nestor. It's not that I don't think John won't like Nestor, it's just that I'm keeping Nestor's secret for him. If Nestor wants to announce to the world his whereabouts, then Nestor will do it himself. Not me.

"Yeah, my parents used to shop there all the time." John said.

"Did you ever find Sting Ray, Jet, Hot Shot, and Shark?" I asked changing the conversation.

"No, not yet, but I doubt we'll find them anytime soon. Janko is a tricky fellow. Very secretive and filled with street smarts. I'm surprised he managed to break out of federal prison without any of the guards noticing. Anyway, I more concerned about that Sting Ray fellow."

"Why?"

"Believe it or not, I know Carlos. Not very well, I was called in at a domestic dispute at his house a year ago just after his dad died. He was under the care of his father's girlfriend. Her name is Alice. She calmly explained to the police that it was just a simple accident, but looking at Carlos, I could tell it was no accident. He had a black eye and numerous cuts and bruises, and the way he sat and didn't make eye contact with any of us including Alice told me that she abused him. My suspicions were raised when six months ago, we got a call that Carlos ran away."

My mind was taken back to that night a week ago. _My dad has a girlfriend. She's always touching me in places I don't want to be touched, and I'm scared she might kill me or hurt me if I make her stop. My dad died a year ago. He never knew about it. If he did, he would have stopped her. _I guess at one point, Sting Ray tried to stop her, but he was brutally punished for retaliation. "Sting Ray told me that Alice sexually abuses him, and he's afraid that if he stopped her, she would hurt him or killed him. That's why he joined the Turks – to get protection from Alice."

"Hmmm, no matter how good of an idea it seems. It's never a good idea to join a gang for security. It leads to more trouble, and in the end, you're all you got," John said. I cringed. I was guilty for joining a gang for security reasons.

"Carlos is a good kid. He's the one who helped me break away from the Turks. He wants to break away, too, but he said that it's too late for him, and he's not strong enough. Out of the four of them, Sting Ray was the closest to a friend even if he didn't talk much."

"I didn't say he wasn't a good kid. I want to get him out of there, too, but he doesn't realize that it's never too late to get out. Actually, he should get out now before he does something regrettable, but don't worry. We'll find him, and make sure he gets a better life than what he has now." John's words made me feel better inside even if John never does find Sting Ray. I just hope he's okay. "Anyway, we're here." I got out of the car. "I'll wait in the car for you."

"Okay," I said and ran inside. I immediately headed for Nestor's room to gather my backpack filled with Nestor's letter, my journal, one hundred ninety dollars, various snacks that have diminished after a month of snacking, a few water bottles, and my hoodie. I didn't bother keeping everything in the backpack, and now snack bags and empty water bottles litter the floor. I pick them up and throw into the trash can which is really useless since no one's here to take out the trash. I stuff all of my belonging in my backpack and tie my hoodie around my waist. I fling the backpack over my shoulders and take a last look around. This is where Nestor used to live and then he left it for Nevada. I used to live in Nevada but left for New York City and lived here. Now I'm leaving this place. Laving seems to be a common theme here. I wonder what Nestor will think?

I say my last goodbyes and head out the door.

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><p><strong>Stay tuned. Next chapter will feature the rest of the Hamaot family.<strong>


	31. Happy Birthday

**Finally what most of you have been waiting for. A chapter featuring the rest of the family. Oh, Blue Rose Kelly, remember what I said why there was a special reason I haven't made them turn 17 yeat? (refer to the top of Ch. 17 if you need a refresher). This is the reason why. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>"<em>Come on people now smile on your brother everybody get together, try to love one another right now" <em>– "Territorial Pissings" by: Nirvana

**At the Browns' residence; Mikey's POV**

The next day, I woke up with a strange feeling that today is special. I felt…different somehow. I don't know. And something in me told me that today is special, but what makes today so special? Maybe something awesome will happen today. I wrote this down in my journal.

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><p><strong>In the Lair<strong>

Splinter arranged the candles on the cake while April decorated the Lair with streamers, and Casey was away with Leo, Don, and Raph, beating up Purple Dragons. It was the Turtles' seventeenth birthday. Well, more like the approximate day that Splinter found the Turtles as non-mutant infants. It was suppose to be a happy occasion, celebrating the Turtles' passage from sixteen to seventeen, but Splinter and April worked in grave silence. After all, one thing was missing.

Michelangelo

_Another birthday without my youngest son. How many birthdays will pass before Michelangelo comes home? _Splinter thought as he put the last candle on the cake and lit the candles. He bowed his head and whispered a silent prayer for Michelangelo's safety and return and quietly wishing his son a happy birthday. It was now the most he could do to celebrate Michelangelo's birthday. His sixteenth birthday presents (along with his seventeenth birthday presents) lay hidden in Splinter's closet, waiting to be opened by the orange clad turtle.

Splinter felt a hand rest on his shoulder and looked up to see April with a sad smile on her face. Splinter eased himself as he took comfort from Miss O'Neil.

"Mikey will come home. He'll be back in no time," April assured.

"I fear for his safety and life," Splinter said.

"Mikey's a ninja. He knows how to defend himself," April comforted.

Splinter nodded. "That is true, but even the greatest warrior can be overwhelmed at times."

"We'll find him. I promise, but for now let's celebrate Mikey's birthday even though he is not here and Leo's, Don's, and Raph's birthday. They've been too sad and angry for the past two years. They need to experience some happiness even if Mikey isn't here to provide it," April said.

Splinter nodded in agreement. "You are right, Miss O'Neil. I believe I hear Mister Jones coming home with my sons."

Splinter rushed to greet his sons. In the past, he had always been afraid that three will return and not four, but since Michelangelo's capture two years ago, that fear has magnetized and so every night as soon as his sins come home from patrol or from Casey or April's apartment building, Splinter will greet his sons to make sure that all three are okay and perhaps (although this hope is faint) that they have found Michelangelo brought him home.

Splinter was at the door as soon as his sons and Casey crossed through the threshold. Splinter took notice of the sad fact that Michelangelo is not with them. Splinter quickly scanned his sons and was glad to see no injuries from fighting Purple Dragons. It's all he needs now: a son missing and another dead.

"We're okay, Master Splinter," Leo said, taking notice of his father checking them.

"I just want to make sure, my son," Splinter replied. "How did it go?"

"We won," Raph said curtly. Any other day, Raph would be thrilled, but his youngest brother is missing and there have been no leads, and to make matters worse, it was also Mikey's birthday today. All of this greatly affected Raph's personality.

April finally entered the living room with chocolate cake. "Happy birthday, guys!" she said in her most jovial tone of voice.

Don looked at her with worn out eyes. "Thanks, April, but honestly, none of us feel like celebrating. Not without Mikey to celebrate with us."

April's smile decreased in size a little bit, but she did not give up. "Which is why we should celebrate. It's not only your day but Mikey's too. We should honor him and celebrate his memory even though he's not here at the moment." April paused to let that sink in. Then she added, "And besides, Mikey wouldn't want you three to be so gloomy on your birthday."

Leo smiled. He knew what April said – especially the last part – was true. He looked at her square in the eye and said, "You're right, April. We should honor Mikey on his birthday and have some fun ourselves, too. He wouldn't want us to be sulking. Mikey hates that." Don and Raph nodded in agreement.

April smiled in triumph. "I'm glad you see it my way, Leo."

"Alright then! Let's get this party started!" Casey shouted as he raced towards the radio to put on some hard rock and dance music. Eventually, Leo, Raph, and Don warmed up to the music and celebrating atmosphere and decided to take their minds off of their youngest brother's disappearance. Raph and Casey wrestled with each other on the floor while Don and Leo cheered for Raph and April cheered for Casey. Splinter watched the sparring match and shook his head at such antics. Later, they played Guitar Hero with April singing, Casey on drums, Leo on guitar, Raph on bass guitar, and Don on keyboard. Splinter, who was not into videogames, especially Guitar Hero, left quietly, stuck on some ear plugs, and checked the food. He was just happy that for once his sons were happy and enjoying themselves rather than being locked up in their sorrow, guilt, and anger.

Afterwards, it was time for dinner. Raph, Leo, Don, April, and Casey entered the kitchen excitedly talking about who was the best at what in Guitar Hero.

"Come on, Leo, my guitar playing was so much better than yours. I'm the one who helped scored the most points," Raph argued.

"I think you're deaf, bro. No one in the right mind would call your guitar playing music," Leo argued back. Raph mockingly punched Leo in the arm.

"I don't know guys," Don interrupted, "but I never knew April could sing that well."

April blushed. "Thanks, Donny. I didn't know either. I haven't sung that long since high school choir."

"You guys may know how to rock out on Guitar Hero, but it was my drum playing that won us big time!" Casey boasted. The four of them just stared at Casey dumbfounded and laughed at him. Each of them knew that Casey was musically challenged, and that game of Guitar Hero further proved it. Casey drummed like an insane chimpanzee.

"What?" Casey innocently asked. In his mind, he rocked.

No of them said anything as they just continued to laugh. It was when they saw on the table, their laughter ceased.

Pizza

Mikey's favorite

It was a tradition to have pizza on their birthdays. They all loved pizza, but Mikey had an addiction to it. And that homemade pizza that Master Splinter made for his sons' birthday, painfully reminded the five of them of Mikey. Their stomachs growled in hunger, but all of them felt that is they ate that pizza they will hurl it up. The sadness hurt that much.

Master Splinter entered and was confused to see why everyone was staring at the pizza with gloomy looks. It hit him that they were thinking of Michelangelo, and the pizza triggered the thought. Master Splinter did not wish to see his family in great sorrow especially his three oldest sons on their birthday. "My sons, Miss O'Neil, Mister Jones, it's time for dinner now," Master Splinter said in his most upbeat voice.

It seemed to shake the five of them out of their melancholic trance, and they took their seats around the kitchen table. At first, no one said a thing as they chewed on their slices of pizza. The silence surrounding them was awkward, and no one knew how to break it.

And perhaps, it was better if they didn't. Each member was lost in thought about a happy memory of Mikey. Leo remembered Mikey trying to teach him how to make pizza, but in the end, Leo failed to learn and the two of them had a food fight. Don remembered him and Mikey sneaking into a movie theater to watch the 2009 _Star Trek _film. Raph remembered a time he took Mikey out for a motorcycle ride after much pestering from Mikey himself. April remembered when Mikey made her breakfast-in-bed when she was sick with the flu. Casey remembered Mikey comparing him to the Hulk which resulted in a wrestling match between the two. Splinter remembered reading to Mikey his first comic book. Somehow, all the memories lead to thoughts that Mikey should be here, eating pizza with them.

Who knew pizza could trigger such powerful memories of loved ones?

Dinner ended without a word spoken. April and Master Splinter cleaned up while Don, Leo, Raph, and Casey headed for the living room to watch TV. As soon as the dishes were done, April and Master Splinter joined them. It was time for presents now.

They were kept in a corner in the room. There were twelve presents – three purple wrapped gifts for Donny, three orange wrapped gifts for Mikey, three blue wrapped gifts for Leo, and three red wrapped gifts for Raph.

"Happy birthday, my sons!" Master Splinter exclaimed.

"Thank you, Father," the three said in union.

Don was the first to open his gifts. He got some of the latest scientific books from Master Splinter, a National Geographic CD box set from April, and some computer games from Casey. Then Leo opened his gifts. He got a calligraphy set from April, a book about meditation techniques from Master Splinter (whom had read the book before and said that the author really knows what he's talking about), and a book about ancient Japanese mythology from Casey. Raph opened his gifts and got a new punching bag from Master Splinter, a motorcycle fixing kit from April, and _American Chopper _DVD box set. Overall, the brothers had received some nice birthday presents, but there were only three left.

"So I guess these go into storage until Mikey comes home," Don said sadly pointing to the three neatly orange wrapped gifts.

"It's not fair!" Raph cried, "That he shouldn't be home with us on his birthday!"

"It's not fair that he was even captured in the first place," Leo replied, "who knows what's happening to Mikey now, and knowing Bishop, it can't be good."

"Who knows if Mikey is even alive?" Don said despondently.

Raph wheeled around to face Don. "Don't you say that! Mikey's alive!"

"There's no evidence to say so, and there have been no leads for a year! All we know is that Mikey's gone, and Bishop took him. We don't know if he's alive or dead, or anything that's being done to him!" Don argued back. Raph looked like he was about to punch Don hard in the face.

"My sons, we must be hopeful despite what evidence or lack of therefore says if we are ever to keep our faith alive of finding Michelangelo," Master Splinter lectured.

"Yes, sensei," Don and Raph said. Their anger began to cool down.

"Let us not dwell on the fact that our family member is missing, but celebrate him. It is Michelangelo's birthday, too," Master Splinter said as he looked to April. Those words belonged to her after all.

"And when we find Mikey, we'll beat the shit out of Bishop!" Casey yelled.

"Dibs on his face," Raph said.

"We'll find, Mikey. No one takes him and gets away with it," April promised. "Now it's time for cake."

The six of them entered the kitchen. April brought out the cake, and she, Casey, and Master Splinter sang "Happy Birthday". After the song, Don, Leo, and Raph blew out the candles.

"What did you guys wish for?" Casey asked.

"For Mikey to come home safe and alive," Leo answered.

"He will, my son. He will," Master Splinter assured him.

* * *

><p><strong>At the Browns' residence<strong>

_Hello, Journal_

_Well. Nothing really big or special happened today. I did discover some of my interests though. I watched a horror movie marathon and loved it! Now I'm scanning the TV guide to see if any more are on. John also pulled out some old Marvel comics of his. I read them and became absorbed in the artwork, plotline, and all the individual characters. I asked him if I could get some current issues. He said yes. I even tried drawing Superman flying, and I was impressed with how it came out. So were Nora and John. They said I have real natural talent, and I agree. I began making drawing a hobby. Maybe I'll create my own comic book with its own superheroes. Oh well, I guess the only thing that came close to noteworthy was that Nora and John learned from the hospital that I have ADHD. Now I need to take Ritalin. I guess that's why I woke up this morning feeling different. It's because of my ADHD. Yeah, I'll blame it on my ADHD._

_Love,_

_Mikey_

"_Children waiting for the day they feel good  
>Happy birthday, happy birthday<br>And I feel the way that every child should  
>Sit and listen, sit and listen"<em>

- Mad World by: Gary Jules

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><p><strong>Last line was inspired by the lyrics "I blame it on my ADD baby" from the song "Sail" by Awolnation. Awesome song!<strong>


	32. First Day of School

**AP Chemistry, PSATs and lack of muse and motivation are the reasons why this chapter was late. Sorry. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles or "Mad World"**

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><p>"<em>Went to school and I was very nervous<br>No one knew me, no one knew me  
>Hello teacher tell me, what's my lesson?<br>Look right through me, look right through me"_

- "Mad World" by: Gary Jules

**Two Months later – September 1**

"Mikey, it's time to wake up," Nora softly said in a sing-song voice. I groaned and reluctantly got out of my nice warm, cozy bed. Today is the first day of high school, and despite not being in any previous high school classes or even grade school classes, they stuck me in eleventh grade because they estimated me to be sixteen maybe even seventeen. Doesn't matter. I probably would have been in junior year if I really was seventeen due to my ADHD. They probably would have held me back a year in grade school.

Nora left to give me some privacy and I slipped on some athletic shorts, a T-shirt, and some socks and sneakers. I haphazardly brushed my hair. I have to admit. Today wasn't so bad. I have cross country practice after school. It turns out that I'm a good endurance runner. I have one of the best times. I always thought I was a sprinter, but I can last longer than a hundred yards. It's thanks to John that I learned my knack for endurance running. Every morning, he runs for two miles in our neighborhood to stay in shape for his job. One day he took me out with him, and he was surprised about how I was always ahead of him by at least twenty feet (and John used to be a cross country runner – one of the best on his team). He encouraged me to try out for the Union High School cross country team in August. I did and I made the team.

Besides cross country bringing light to this boring day, I signed up for a drawing course after discovering my knack in art, particularly drawing. The idea of improving my art skills made me slightly want to suffer the whole day at school. I also signed up for creative writing. I figured those two classes will help me launch my career as a graphic novelist. It was the mandatory prospect of taking math and science that made me want to sleep in all day. I'm taking CP levels in those two classes, and I still don't want to deal with them. At least English isn't so bad. I'm taking advanced placement.

I used the bathroom and trudged downstairs for breakfast. There John was eating cereal while reading the newspaper and Nora was frying an egg. I noticed that the comics (the only thing worth reading in a newspaper) were left out for me. I made myself some chocolate milk and then sat down.

"Hey, kiddo," John greeted.

"Mornin'," I said like a zombie.

Nora put a fried egg on my plate."For your first day of school."

"Thanks," I muttered tiredly. She smiled, and I ate while reading the comics.

"So it's your first day of school," John said cheerfully. How he was a morning person is beyond me. I'm only a morning person if I sleep in until ten.

"Yup, I'm kinda nervous. I don't think I've ever been to school." I don't mention that I think I've been homeschooled before.

"You'll love it. High school was the best years of my life," John said as he got up and set his bowl in the kitchen sink. "Well, I gotta go, he said before kissing Nora on the cheek and rubbing my hair affectionately like Nestor did a few times. "Bye, have fun at school, Mikey."

"Okay," I said. John went out the door, and I finished eating my fried egg and reading the comics. A few were pretty funny today. Afterwards, I cleared my plate and glass. I thanked Nora for the meal, and rushed upstairs to use the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, Nora yelled from the bottom of the stairs. "Hurry up, Mikey! You're going to miss the bus!"

I stuck my head out of the bathroom door and yelled, "Okay! I'm almost done!" I quickly finished brushing my teeth and ran to my room to get my backpack. Instead of walking down the stairs like a normal human being, I slid down the railing.

Nora was down by the bottom of the stairs when she witnessed my little stunt. She shook her head. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?"

"Sorry," I said, smiling. I swear I could get away with murder just by smiling at someone. I wonder if I always had this ability.

Nora just shook her head, and said, "Have a good day at school, Mikey."

"Ok, thanks," I said, and I ran out the door and down the block. My bus stop is at the beginning of our neighborhood. I will admit that I am a little late getting out due to spending too much time in the bathroom. I just hope I don't miss the bus on the first day of school. That would suck.

Luckily, I didn't. As soon as I got there, I noticed two other kids around my age standing at the bus stop, but as soon as I made it, the bus rolled by. The three of us boarded, and I looked for an empty seat so I can catch up on five minutes of sleep. There was a seat in the very back. I sat down with my backpack next to me and let the sounds of the bus lull me into a quick power nap. However, the back of the bus tends to intensify the bumps in the road which once or twice disrupted my nap. And because of this and the short time span it takes to get to school, I didn't really get much of a nap. Pretty soon, we were unloading ourselves to Union High School. I felt like I was going to puke from being so damn nervous.

First things first, I have to find my homeroom. That wasn't too hard, it was posted on the door of the main office, and I know where it is due to that tour of the school I took in August so I headed there. I figured I'll doodle in my sketchpad (the one that I reserved for just for fun not for my Drawing class) until the bell rings. Not many kids were here for me to meet, and I already knew everybody so I headed down the hall and easily found my homeroom. I sat down and began to sketch Silver Sentry, Turtle Titan (whom I enjoy sketching the most for some odd reason; I guess I can relate to him somehow), Batman, and various other superheroes from my comic books.

Fifteen minutes later the bell rang and five minutes later the late bell rang. My homeroom was already filled with kids and the homeroom teacher Mr. Woods was already here. A boy with light brown curly hair and glasses that looked like the teenage version of Leonard from the _Big Bang Theory _(except for his hair color) came running in and sneaked past the teacher. He sat down next to me. I didn't pay much attention to him so I continued drawing – random doodles at this point. However, I felt his eyes looking at my picture, and sure enough he was. The feeling of someone looking down your shoulder was creepy, and I did feel this feeling. However, I was happy for someone to take notice of my drawings.

The boy realized that he was caught red handed by me. "Oh, sorry, I was just looking at what you're drawing. I'm Rex, by the way."

"No problem. I like it when people look at my drawings. I'm Mikey."

"Cool! Nice to meet yah, Mikey!"

"Same thing."

The morning announcements came on but no one really paid any attention to them. Rex and me just talked instead.

"So, Mikey, how come I've never seen you around last year?" Rex asked.

I didn't want to tell the truth – mainly because I can't remember, but I didn't want to lie either so I said explained as vaguely as possible. "I didn't go to school here. Actually, this is my first time in high school. I was…homeschooled, but when I came to live with my foster parents, they sent me to high school."

Rex believed me without a second thought. "That's cool, man. If you ever need someone to show you around, I'm your guy."

"Great thanks."

After the morning announcements, Mr. Woods began to explain how every morning we meet here and gave us papers that our parents or legal guardians had to sign. As soon as the bell rings, we proceed with our classes. Then he gave us our schedules and explained about how our seven day rotating schedule works. I took a look at mine. I have AP English first period, followed by CP Pre-Calc, Creative Writing, Honors US History, lunch, Drawing, and CP Chemistry. Based on how this schedule works, I skip CP chemistry, but because our periods are shortened today, I'll be going to all of my classes. It's just for a brief introduction and that's all.

Rex peered over my shoulder. "Cool! We share pre-calc, history, lunch, and chemistry together."

"Really? What about English and what are your electives?" I asked.

"I'm taking CP English. For electives, I have a study hall and Spanish III." Before I could answer, the bell rang. "Well, see you in two periods!' Rex said.

I laughed. It was evident that we were becoming fast friends. "Don't wait up for me."

Rex laughed, and he turned left gown the hallway while I went right to the English hallway where I found my classroom. Thank God this school is easy to navigate!

I picked a seat in the back row among other boys my age. We were all too nervous and too tired to really talk. As soon as the late bell rang, our AP English teacher – a young woman in her early thirties and had a slight hippie look to her – entered the classroom. "Ok, students," she began to say, "My name is Ms. Darby." Then she handed out papers to all of us that described this class, the upcoming AP English exam in May, grades, supplies, and what she expects out of us which isn't much really all that different from what other teachers expect out of their students – participation, hard work, and respect. Ms. Darby had us introduce ourselves and then proceeded to go through the paper she had just handed out to us. She seems like a nice woman not like those stuffy English teachers you see in cartoons but a free flowing woman who wants us to express ourselves through the written word and open our minds to other people's worlds. It seems fitting that I also have her for Creative Writing.

Twenty minutes later, the bell rang, and I navigated through tons of kids to my CP pre-calc class. As soon as I entered, I was met by Rex sitting in the farthest corner of the back row away from the teacher's desk. He waved me other, and I joined him.

"Hey, how was your last class?" Rex asked.

"Fine, dude. I have AP English with Ms. Darby. She seems pretty cool."

"Ms. Darby is the best! I had her last year. I just had Spanish last period. Why do Spanish teachers talk only in Spanish when giving us directions or telling a bit about themselves? We don't understand Spanish! That's why where here!"

I laughed. "Dude, I would die taking a foreign language, and you're in Spanish III. Shouldn't you understand the teacher by now?"

"No!" Rex exasperatedly exclaimed.

Then the bell rang. This time I have a male teacher – a guy named Mr. Unward, and boy was he strict! He organized us into assign seats which placed me far away from Rex, and all period he talked about the consequences of turning in late assignments and talking in class and how black-and-white math is. It's like he loves getting kids into trouble and worships the demerit slip. To make matters worse, he monitors detention every week! I was not going to survive CP Pre-calc with Mr. Unward. Math is already difficult enough. I could tell Rex hated him, too, just by his facial expression. When the bell rang, it sounded like a chorus of angels.

"Ugh! I hate Mr. Unward!" Rex ranted.

"Tell me about it."

I walked back to Ms. Darby's room, but there was nothing new that I really needed to know, but I did pay attention anyway. This class and Drawing are going to be my favorite classes besides lunch. Afterwards, I went upstairs to my history class. This time I was the first one there, waiting for Rex. As soon as Rex saw me sitting in the middle of the room, he joined me, but we didn't get much time to talk because as soon as Rex sat down, the bell rang. Our history teacher Mr. Smith fit the stereotypical history teacher – formal and stuffy with a long, winding voice as he spoke. This class would be perfect for catching up on missed sleep if his class wasn't so hard to learn from. I'm not so good with remembering things so I will have to listen to Mr. Smith's dull voice while taking notes. This is going to be the most boring class.

However lunch was next, and Rex and I shared this lunch. Both of us sat together with some of Rex's friends from last year. They were all nice guys and girls – some of them having great senses of humor. They instantly welcomed me into the group and were curious about me not suspicious or hostile. They were nothing like Jet, Sting Ray, Shark, or Hot Rod.

"So, Mikey, you live around here? How come we've never seen you last year?" a blonde haired girl named Holly asked.

"Um yeah, I just moved here from uh Nevada. I was mostly homeschooled. This is my first time at an actual school." I somewhat explained.

"Where do you live?" asked an Asian girl named Vicky.

"Oh, I live in a small house with Nora and John Brown," I explained, glad that the subject was something I could say truthfully and wholeheartedly.

"Oh so you're a foster kid?" Vicky asked. Obviously she knew of the Browns' line of work.

"Yup!"

Then Rex pulled out a can of Coke. "Ok, who can drink this and belch the loudest?"

A guy named Rory said, "No way, dude! You aren't serious?"

"I'm always serious when it comes to this kind of stuff."

"Well, I ain't doin' it," Rory protested.

"Vicky? Holly?" Rex asked.

"No, that's disgusting, Rex," Holly said.

"Forget it," Vicky simply said.

Something inside me stirred with excitement, saying that I was the King of Belching. I listened without a second thought. "I will."

"Alright, my man Mikey's willing to do it!" Rex slid the can to me. "Here you go, pal!"

"Oh man, dude, you seriously gonna do it?" Holly's brother Mark asked.

"Hell yeah, I'm gonna do it!" I exclaimed before drinking the Coke. Then I opened the tab and chugged that thing down like there was no tomorrow, only pausing for a quick second to breathe. Then when I was finished, I waited for a minute in anticipation. Actually, so did Rex, Holly, Vicky, Rory, Mark, and an African American kid named Dwayne waited with me – Rex and Dwayne in excitement, Vick and Holly in disgust but in surrendered amusement, Rory and Mark in disbelief. Then it happened. I belched the longest and loudest ever. Only the noise of the students and faculty in the cafeteria were a few decibels louder. But my performance wasn't done as I had some belches left so I belched from A to E. Everyone in our little group clapped for me even Vicky and Holly who were disgusted but impressed.

"Unbelievable," Mark muttered.

"Bravo! Bravo!" complimented Rex.

"Thank you! Thank you!" And then I blew out fake kisses like actors do after winning the Grammy or the Emmy earning a few laughs from the group. I couldn't get over the wonderful feeling of being in the center of attention. I loved it! But the awesome feeling was cut short when lunch ended. However, my next class was drawing so it wasn't so bad.

"See yah!" I said to everyone else.

"See you later, Mikey," Holley said and everyone else said their casual goodbyes.

I made my way through the crowd of students to my next class which was located in the basement where the rest of the art classes were located. Have to admit, it was a nice location. The basement is quiet and free from the noises of hundreds of students in a hallway rushing to get to their next class. It was a perfect spot for concentration. Unfortunately, because it was the first period and we only have twenty minutes, we won't be doing any drawing today.

My art teacher – Mr. Freeman – was the masculine version of Ms. Darby – same age, same views, and both have a hippie look to them. I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out they were fraternal twins or something. Mr. Freeman talked on and on how art is the salvation of the soul (much like how Ms. Darby preached that through creative writing, we can unleash our worlds and thoughts and feelings onto ink and paper). I liked this guy. He's weird, but I like weird. He seems like a pretty cool guy.

The twenty minutes were up sooner than expected as I trudged up the stairs to CP Chemistry – one of my least favorite classes. The classroom as different compared to the other classrooms in the fact that it didn't have desks but tables and chairs – much like the art room. Actually, just looking at this room looks like a science version of the art room. However, this doesn't make me like this class any more. I sat next to Rex, and our teacher – Mrs. Hathwood talked about what we would be learning and the labs we will be doing this year. At least she seemed really nice. As she gave us a brief intro on chemistry, Rex whispered in my ear, "Man, this is boring. Why can't we just blow stuff up with chemicals in the lab?" I snickered. This class was boring and hard. The blowing up part sounds fun.

Five minutes before the bell, the afternoon announcements came on for a minute. Then the bell rang, and I was outta here. "See yah, Rex!"

"You're not taking the bus?"

"No, I have cross country practice!"

"Ok, see yah!"

I quickly ran to my locker to grab my Cross Country clothes to change into before meeting at our team's bus that will take us to Central Park to practice. I survived the first day of school. Now let's see if I can survive cross country.


	33. Letters and Frustration

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>After cross country practice, the bus dropped me off at school, and Nora was there to pick me up. "So?" she asked, "How was your first day of school?"<p>

"Pretty good. I really like my drawing teacher and AP English/creative writing teacher. Also, I made a new friend. His name's Rex, and I met some of his own friends in which I gained popularity with them by belching," I told her.

"Well, that sounds…fun." Obviously, she isn't fanatic about belching.

By the time we came back, John was lounging on the couch. "You're here early," I commented. Usually, he's home by eight. It was only five.

"Someone took over my shift for the evening," John said.

"You should have called," Nora said, "I would have made you dinner."

John smiled apologetically, and Nora trudged to the kitchen. Then to me, he said, "How was your first day of school, Mikey?"

"Great! Mr. Freedman, my art teacher, and Ms. Darby, my AP English teacher and creative writing teacher, seem really cool. My history teacher is boring as hell, and my CP pre-calc teacher is a dick!"

"Watch your language," John said sternly.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Anyway, I'm glad you had fun. Oh, there's a letter for you. Not sure who's it from, but it's from Nevada. It's on the kitchen table," John said in a lighter tone.

Without a word, I ran to the kitchen, snatched my letter, and ran upstairs to my room. I tore open the envelope. As soon as I was assigned to Nora's and John's care, I wrote to Nestor about it and told him of my new address. I was scared that he wouldn't have gotten it. I guess my fears were unfounded. I handled his letter as if it were a sacred treasure and read its contents.

_Dear Mikey,_

_That's great that you found a loving home and one with a stable structure. An old, abandoned building can only hold up so long before it collapses. At least your home has the loving touch of a mother, or in your case – a foster mom. I just hope that you're not moved from foster home to foster home too much. You need some kind of stability in your life. Perhaps, they might adopt you. In second thought, probably a bad idea since you your real family is probably out their looking for you. Which brings me to my other question; have you found any clues yet?_

_Anyway, just recently in August, we had a major dust storm. Visibility was down to zero, and it lasted for three hours! Thank God, Jetta was already in the house when it happened. She would get lost in that dust storm, trying to do her business, and I would get lost just looking for her. The best thing to do when you're trapped in a dust storm is to sit it out and wait. Also, you should cover your face, especially your nose, with a bandana or some kind of cloth to prevent sand clogging up your nose. Goggles would probably be better for eyes. This is just a survival tip in case you ever go hiking in the desert. Not that they have any deserts in New York City, or anywhere on the East Coast._

_Anyway, write to me soon!_

_Your friend,_

_Nestor_

After I read the letter (about like three times) I tore out a piece of paper from my notebook and began to write my reply. I have so much to say!

_Dear Nestor,_

_A dust storm, really? We had a severe thunderstorm in the middle of August. We lost power for about an hour, and the storm only lasted for half an hour. It wasn't even that bad. The lightning looked amazing though!_

_Nora and John are really nice. If it turns out I don't have a biological family or any kind of family, I hope they adopt me. They're growing on me, and it's only been what, two months? Today was my first day of eleventh grade. School's boring, but I really like my drawing teacher Mr. Freedman and my AP English/creative writing teacher Ms. Darby. Ms. Darby reminds me of a hippie, and Mr. Freedman is like the masculine version of her. All my other teachers are okay, with the exception of Mr. Unward who's the strictest guy I know! He's probably the reincarnation of Saddam Hussein or some fascist dictator. (I'm taking AP English, CP pre-calc, creative writing, honors US history, drawing, and CP Chemistry.)_

_Oh, I also made some new friends. I met Rex in my homeroom, and we share a lot of classes together. He seems like one of those wise-cracking, punk kids. I think we could get along. I've sat next to him in the classes we share. He also met his other friends – Vicky, Holly, Mark, Dwayne, and Rory. They seem pretty nice, too, but I hit off with Rex the most although Holly's pretty hot!_

_So about your question? I did discover some stuff about me – my personality more specifically. At your place I discovered that I was an animal love, a really good cook who also enjoys cooking, and a comedian. Then when I came to New York City, well, for the most part I learned absolutely nothing about myself. Actually, I was probably was on my way to becoming somebody else, but I turned around before it was too late which evidently, brought me here, to John and Nora's humble home. The two months, I've been here have revealed some stuff about me. I discovered that I have a love of comic books! John even bought me some new ones. I also learned that I have a knack of drawing. I'm actually taking creative writing and drawing to start my own comic book. I also discovered my love of _Star Wars, Star Trek, _and a bunch of other fantasy, sci-fi, and horror movies. Then I learned that I was a pretty good distance runner. I was always a great sprinter, but it seems as though I have a knack for endurance. I learned this when going out on a run with John. I've joined the cross country team because of this. Running is natural to me. It clears my mind and makes me one with my body and soul like nothing else matters but what's inside. This ability might become useful someday. Today, I learned that I love being in the center of attention. It felt great! Like I was on top! Which is a lot better than feeling like you're nobody. And recently, I've realized that I'm a social butterfly. I like to be around a large group of people, and I hate being alone. Alone is scary! Oh yeah, I learned that I'm a pro at belching._

_But that's the thing. These are just facts about me. Once in a while, I get these weird dreams, but the visuals are blurred like smeared paint and the auditory is muffled. I know it means something, but I don't know what. I write them down anyway (in vivid detail) in hopes that their meanings will come to me. But I'm just so frustrated, you know! These dreams are probably the keys to my past, and they're so undecipherable, I don't even know what they mean, leaving me further in the dark! Then I still feel like that I don't know fully who I am, personality-wise. I have all these little discoveries about my interests, talents, and tidbits of my personality, but it doesn't feel like enough to declare myself officially figured out. I'm hoping school will reveal more of who I am now that I'm surrounded by kids my own age and doing things that I enjoy. I just hope that I like the end result. Do you know what I mean?_

_Well, that's all for now. Bye_

_Your friend,_

_Mikey_

_P.S. Do you have a computer? If so do you have an e-mail address? Maybe I can ask my mom to get one so we can e-mail each other._

I put down the pen with a giant sigh. Whooh! That was a lot to get off my chest. I folded up the letter. After dinner, I'll find an envelope and mail it tomorrow. I hope Nestor can get back to me soon. I feel frustrated about not finding anything about my past and only a few things about who I am but are not enough to make up my whole individuality. Nestor is like the guru in this kind of stuff. He's probably got all the answers to guide me in this kind of thing.

"Mikey! Dinner time!" Nora called.

"Okay!" I shouted. I ran down stairs for some pasta. Even when I'm exhausted from hardcore running, I still have the energy when it comes to a meal (or really anything since I'm so hyperactive, but mostly food).

That night, I dreamed of four silhouettes running in the dark, and one of them shouted, "Wahoo! Bet you can't beat me, guys!"

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><p><strong>We're starting to see Mikey's personality flaw - impatience - drip into his letter for Nestor<strong>


	34. Art

**I'm still alive, and this story has not been forgotten. I've just been finishing up another story of mine. Now I can put my full attention to this one, and not only that, I figured out a plan from here till Mikey meets his bros. Now I don't have to leave this alone for weeks, figuring out what to write next. Yay!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>"<em>[Art] is where you can find your soul, if you dare. Where you can touch that part of you that you've never looked at before." – <em>Mr. Freedman to his ninth grade art class, _Speak _by: Laurie Halse Anderson

Within a few weeks, I began to fit comfortably with the pace of school. However, school bores me to no end, and it's not helpful when I have ADHD. I have to take Ritalin at lunchtime, but Nora says I don't have to take it on weekends provided I got all my homework done beforehand. She says that I should embrace it because it's the source of my creativity and bright, cheerful personality. I have to agree with her, and my art teacher does so, too. He's even encouraging me to create my own comic book. I've shown Mr. Freedman lots of my drawings (most were superheroes), and once we got into a conversation of the lack of appreciation of the quality, storytelling art in comic books. He said then said I should create my own, and he would help me get it published.

Well, anyway, today we were drawing. We were given an assignment to draw something that represents our soul or something like that. I thought about drawing myself as a superhero because I've always wanted to be a superhero, but that's not what came out. I took a picture of me on my cell phone (a gift from John and Nora) and used it as reference. I've began drawing a rough draft of a cubist sketch of me, but then I had a better idea and erased it. This time I drew a cubist sketch of me, but I spread out the pieces like pieces of glass after it shatters. I liked it so I began darkening the lines and used color pencils to add some depth, shading, and color. I took a step back. It needs more.

In a fit of insanity, I used a red pencil to draw drops of blood, seeping from the pieces of me. It looks really good, but it needs a back ground. I know! I'll make it so as the pieces of glass were floating in space. I used a black pencil to color in the deep blackness of spaced and used a yellow pencil to draw little stars. I took my masterpiece and showed it to Mr. Freeman.

"Wonderful, Mikey! Well done!" he complimented. "Now what does it mean to you?"

Crap. I forgot this picture had to express my soul somehow. I tried to think of something of why my spontaneous creativity possessed me to draw this. Then my whole remembered life flashed before my mind and my reasons for coming here reminded me of my journey. Now I know what this drawing was about, but it felt two personal to say to a stranger.

"Too personal? That's okay. Do you want to know what I think of it?" Mr. Freedman asked.

I nodded my head in relief.

"I see a boy who feels incomplete, lost in the dark and vast space of his mind. He may have amnesia, or perhaps, he is unsure of himself and is searching for who he is. Maybe he is insecure about himself. Anyway, that's what I see."

I stood there dumbfounded. This guy has got to be a mind reader or something. How does he know that I have some form of amnesia and I'm searching for myself? I guess he wasn't kidding about art being the salvation of our souls or something like that.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. However, I didn't leave. Mr. Freedman had let me stay after class to work on some of my projects. Tuesday was the only day I could do it. I don't have cross country practice on Tuesdays. I found my folder with all my pictures on it lying on a shelf (there are some poster board-sized pictures in here that are too big to put inside a cabinet). I needed to finish _Broken Heart_ which is a drawing of a girl ripping apart a paper heart and fireworks launching from the torn up paper. I was inspired to draw this after Ms. Darby had us read "Fireworks" by: Amy Lowell.

I began to work on the girl's face. Only she will be black-and-white. The heart will be red while the fireworks will be different colors. As I worked on my drawing, Mr. Freedman started a conversation with me. "Mikey?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm quite impressed with your skills. It has only three weeks, and already you have displayed an immense amount of talent. Most kids are still learning how to draw people and objects. You've already demonstrated mastery of the basics and have quickly moved on to more complex things. Have you taken art before?"

I paused with my work and thought about it. Have I taken art before? I don't think so, but I sort of, kinda remember teaching myself. Sort of kinda meaning that I don't remember myself sitting down and teaching myself through trial and error, but I just know that I did at a young age. "No. I just taught myself through trial and error."

"Well, if my AP class wasn't so filled up, I'd have you switch from regular to AP. Oh well. I guess you can help the others here."

"Yeah, okay." Then I continued on the shading. The rest was spent in silence. However, as time would tell, I can't stand silence unless if I'm by a radio or in front of the TV. I began to talk again. "Hey, Mr. Freedman?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember when you said art is the salvation of the soul? What did you mean?" I asked out of the blue.

"I meant that art whether be visual, musical, fashion, or even theatrical or written, is the key for self expression. Art can save your soul from the gray, depressing conformity or find out who you truly are. Art can express your inner emotions, saving you from a mask. Art makes you feel truly alive."

I took that all in. "Oh? Since you say I'm so good at it, does that mean my soul is already saved?"

"Mikey, you have talent, and the determination to develop your talent. I have never seen a kid more creative, more artistic, and even more individualistic. You are not afraid to express yourself regardless what other kids think of you, and this ability seems to rub off of other people. However, it doesn't matter how good you are at art, it's how you use it. People who are extremely talented but draws for the mainstream rather than themselves are sellouts. They have basically sold their souls to the public. However, people who suck at art but draw to express themselves even though no one will buy their work are saving their souls. Now based on what I've observed of you, you work hard to hone your abilities and you draw to express yourself or to capture a particular emotion. As long as you keep that up and never change, your soul is saved, but I feel like there's something else about you," Mr. Freedman explained.

"Something else?"

"Based on your recent drawing and many other drawings, you've seem to express and emptiness in you. One that you are searching to fill up."

"Uh, yeah. I guess you can say that." Mr. Freedman and Ms. Darby remind me of Nestor's beliefs and wisdom. Those two are the only adults I feel like I can come close to telling my identity crisis like I have done with Nestor.

"Hmmmm," Mr. Freedman pondered while tapping the eraser of a pencil on his chin. "It seems like art has not completely saved you, but you are not giving up."

"I don't think art can. Not this feeling. I think city records could save me," I said. Crap! I didn't want to give too much of my problems. Wait. He knows I'm a foster kid. Pretty much the whole faculty at this school knows so it would be natural for a foster kid to search for his real family. Okay then. He won't be suspicious.

"Art can't solve every one of your problems, but it can help you express them, sort out your emotions. That's how art can help, and that's what it appears you're using art for this particular problem of yours," Mr. Freedman explained.

"Yeah, that makes sense. That feeling of being incomplete is the only thing I can think of. Drawing is really helping me dealing with it. Hopefully, I can put an end to it." I put some finishing touches to the girls face.

"Care to talk about it?"

"Nah, I already have someone helping me out who understands where I'm coming from." I moved on to coloring the heart and adding the fireworks.

"Okay, then. If you ever need to talk, I'm all ears."

I smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Freedman."

"You're welcome. Now only if we can convince your teachers and your foster parents of taking you off of Ritalin. ADD and ADHD can help express emotions that some people are afraid of expressing. They also help in the creativity department."

I laughed. "Nora is lenient on letting me not taking it on the weekends, but John prefers me to take it every day. Honestly, I think I'm already hyper and creative enough without ADHD!"

Mr. Freedman laughed. "I suppose so. You don't need a disorder to let all your emotions and energy burst out! You're one of the happiest kids I know."

"Thanks!" After that, the conversation stopped, and I worked on my picture in silence. A half hour later, I finished. I held up _Broken Heart_ for Mr. Freedman to see and proudly shouted, "Done!"

Mr. Freedman looked up. He smiled and gave me a thumb up. "You rock, Mike!"

I smiled proudly. For my picture and for myself.


	35. Creative Writing

**Another chapter. Enjoy! Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>"<em>If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it." <em>– Anais Nin_  
><em>

I had gotten a ride home from Holly, who was also staying after school late. Today, we skip art class (CP chemistry. Ugh!). I hate the days I don't have drawing, but at least I have creative writing to stimulate my imagination. One can only take so much boredom and numbers.

In creative writing, we have these things called journals in which as soon as we come into class, Ms. Darby will have a topic (usually a phrase) written on the board and we have to write about that topic in our journals. Then if we want, we can share them to the class. Today's topic was "Soaring through the Sky".

Ideas born from forgotten memories of long ago pumped into my head as I began to write feverously. Some part of me – some alternate persona of some old part of me – that I could not remember fueled my inspiration. I could not remember, but my subconscious knew, and it refuses to spill out its secrets to my consciousness. Probably because Bishop's memory blockage drug still holds its fortress around my subconscious, blocking my memories and holding them as prisoners.

But the fortress cannot block my memories' influence over me. Art and writing make that influence come alive. Maybe, if I keep honing my talent, the fortress will break. I keep writing.

I put down my pen. I'm the last one finished. I examined my work and smiled. It feels so familiar reading it, but different. It was like I have been through similar events and decided to take on an original, fictional story inspired by those events.

"Okay," Ms. Darby said, "who would like to share what they wrote today?"

No one raised their hands and neither did I.

However, Ms. Darby wasn't going to have a no-sharing-journals day. Her eyes gazed at us like a hawk. Then her eyes stopped on me. She smiled. "Mikey, why don't you present? You always have very creative entries."

I guess I have no choice.

_"'He soars through the air like a falcon and gazes the Earth below him like a hawk. The sky is his kingdom, his home. He belongs here just as any flying bird belongs in the sky. But he is not a bird and not a plane either. He is a superhero with the celestial superpower of flying. The sun beats down on him like citizens throwing flowers upon their new king. The clouds make way for him like the Red Sea parting for Moses. He is royalty, but he is not arrogant. While his kingdom is the sky, the cities on Earth are what he guards._

_A terrified soul screams in the dark alleyway of the city, and he steers his course and descends to a dark alleyway where hell unfolds before him, but he is not afraid of hell. He fights the girl's tormentors, saving her from a cruel fate and possibly death. He is thanked does not stay on the ground for long. He ascends to the heavens and assumes his protective watch over the city."_

"Nicely well written, Michelangelo!" Ms. Darby complimented.

"Thanks!" I said proudly, happy that I shared my little story now. Hmmm I should add this to my comic book I plan on making. It will be about a superhero. I'm not sure what the plot will be or what's his name, or what his origin is, but as soon as I hone in my drawing skills and talents, I'll do some more brainstorming and work on it.

A couple other kids shared their journal entries. Afterwards, we focused on figure of speech in description. Thirty-five minutes later, the bell rang. I quickly packed up my stuff because as much as I would love to be late for history so I can miss the first five minutes of Mr. Smith's boring lectures, I can't. Grades in history are okay (high C's/low B's), but John wants them to As. (He says I'm smart. I don't know why, but I feel like that's the first time someone's ever said that to me. It makes me feel good enough to try.) And Mr. Smith said (more like yelled; who knew he could raise his voice from low, dull, and monotonous to jet engine loud) that if I was ever late to his class again, he would write slam me into detention "so fast it would make your head spin" (direct quote. Didn't know he had it in him).

"Mikey?" Ms. Darby called as soon as I was about to leave.

"Yeah?"

"Come here. I want to talk to you," she said in a voice so sweet that I automatically knew that whatever she wanted to say, it wasn't negative or threatening me with detention (though she never has done so before).

I walked over to her desk. "Yeah?"

"I noticed that you like to write a lot in your free time. I've read some of your work."

How did she read any of my stuff? My faced turned red as a tomato. "You did?" I asked nervously.

She pulled out an orange notebook, the one that I'd lost since yesterday. I must have left it here. Ms. Darby gave it back to me. "You left this in my classroom. It's okay. I loved reading your work, Mikey. I like the way you think. You have an interesting mind. Do you ever consider publishing anything?"

My stomach warmed up inside. Something tells me that no one has ever thought highly of what's going on inside my mind. Come to think of it. Mr. Freedom, Ms. Darby, John, and Nora are the only ones who love the way I think and create, and John and Nora seem to be the only ones (compared to those feelings of not feeling smart in my mysterious past) who believe I'm smart. I wonder if I was just plain dumb in my past, or I was smart but no one ever believed in me. Who knows?

"No, but I plan on starting my own comic book series," I said.

She smiled and said, "Knowing you, it would have the artwork of Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni and the writing style of Shakespeare but only modern."

I smiled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Then she wrote me a pass for my next class just in case I got to history late. She handed it to me, and I ran off to class, fantasizing about my carreer as a graphic novelist.


	36. Cross Country Championships

**Sorry for the long wait. Thanks to NITRO PSYCHO for beta reading it. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles or song**

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><p>"<em>(I realize)<br>I ran as fast as I can run  
>I pushed as hard as anyone<br>But still there's nothing for me"_

- "Race Against Myself" by: The Offspring

**Saturday morning; October 20****th**

I stretched my legs and then my arms, feeling my heart beat excitedly in my chest. The chilly October wind blew through my air, and in the distance I could see the last of the morning mist float from the Adirondack Mountains. It was the high school cross country championships, and I was one of the runners from my team nominated to race for the gold. First place winner gets a gold metal while second through tenth place runners get silver. The winning school gets a trophy. I could see the golden sun peaking though the mountains in the distance, but my eyes weren't set for that gold. No, the gold that comes in the shape of a circle, and I can wear around my neck.

It's almost ten fifteen – the time for the varsity boys to run. I hear Coach Brock call my name. It's time for a team huddle. We had already done our stretches and warm up run.

I huddled up with a few of my male teammates. "Alright, men," Coach Brock started, "We've come a long way, especially you four. You are our top runners on the boy's team. Now it's time to give it your all – heart, soul, and muscle power – out there and win! Raiders on three! One, two, three…"

"Raiders!" all five of us shouted. Then we placed ourselves on the starting line.

The referee fired the gun, and we were off. Running. It's the only thing worth getting up in the morning for (although I prefer running in the evening rather than morning). I feel alive when I run. I feel powerful like I can take on anything and not even the physical agony can stop me. I feel free of any problem I have, any restraint, and it helps me see things clearly. Running makes me feel so glad to be…human. I don't know, but I have strong suspicion (but no proof or evidence) that I wasn't human before whatever happened, but ever since I started running with John, I felt glad – no –rejoiced in being human, probably, because I feel so alive and free. I don't want to change my species. Maybe that's why the visions or whatever they are aren't fully coming after a year without that drug. I enjoy being human too much. That could be the reason. See? Running really does make me think clearly, but right now, I gotta put my head on the game. I can think about this later.

I run harder, and my heart is beating faster than it was when I was stretching. If I win, I'm on top of the world. If I lose, it's the end of the world. The race is three miles, and I'm not even close to a mile yet. Keep thinking strong! Keep thing fast!

There's another reason I can't afford to lose. It's the first race that John is watching. Nora always comes to my meets, but John hasn't because of his job. Well, when I told him that I was chosen to run for the boy's varsity team in the championships, he made his boss give him a day off on the day of the championships. I really like John and Nora, and I hope I can stay with them. I heard that when being in the foster system, you're always on the move from one house to another. John and Nora have become like parental figures to me, I don't ever want to be moved to a new foster home.

I've reached the first mile mark, and I enter the woods. I hear birds chirping and a squirrel in a tree. There are puddles of sunshine on the forest floor. This beautiful woodland scenery contradicts the physical pain the runners are all feeling, but not me! Not even close. I run like I'm a sprinter, but I have the endurance and stamina of a long distance runner. I could probably run to the ends of the earth before I get tired.

And I feel it, too. I'm at a mile and a half. I feel like something is bubbling up inside of me, ready to burst like magma. I feel it coming. Is it energy? No. It feels like something else, but it makes me want to run harder so I do. Now I really do wanna run to the end of the world.

It's two miles and only one more mile to go. Suddenly, I feel tired. My legs are gonna fall off any second, and I want to vomit out my lungs. Boys run past me. I expended too much energy, and if I don't pick it up, I'm gonna lose! But whatever is bubbling inside of me burst, giving me encouragement and energy.

_A race! Alright! After nothing but patrolling, it's about time we've had some fun! I'm sure to win!_

Says my voice inside my head. It's crystal clear with no memory and its mine, but it feels foreign. Maybe I'm schizophrenic. Whatever. Can't keep dwelling on my possible insanity. I feel all the energy inside of me, turning my legs to titanium and filling my lungs with air. I run harder, catching up to all the boys.

_Ha ha! We've barely just begun, and I'm already winning! This'll be easy._

Two and a quarter miles! I catch up to the last boy. Once I get past him, I know I'll make it out as the victor.

_"Wahoo! Bet you can't beat me, guys!"_

I can feel the last kid gaining up on me until I'm a good distance in front of him. And what that voice just said began to sound familiar. It was from a dream that I forgot as soon as I woke up.

_I quickly pick up speed, nearly giving it my all. I see the finish line. "Almost there."_

I can see the finish line, too. It's in a field. The sun is brighter up ahead. I'm almost out of the woods. As soon as I'm on the field, I give it my all.

I run through the chute, over the white line painted over the grass. I won first place. And Nora and John are all over me. Somebody hands me my place number and time written on an index card. I'm supposed to give it to Coach Brock for him to record. John gives me a water bottle. I drink it as if it were from the Fountain of Youth.

"Congratulations, Mikey!" exclaims Nora. She kisses me on the head – a motherly kiss. The first time she's ever kissed me. I'm touched.

"I'm so proud of you, son!" John pats me on the back. John called me "son" when he found me bleeding on the street, but that was just a term of endearment. When he called me "son" today, it felt like I really was his son. "Thatta boy!"

Coach Brock comes up to me, and I give him my index card. He records the number and time. "I knew I was right to pick you, Mikey. You truly do have a talent and a rare mixture of speed and endurance. Keep up the good work, kid!"

Nora says, "That's my boy." Then she hugs me.

Later at the awards ceremony, I receive a gold first place medal and my school receives a first place trophy. To celebrate my team and I go out to eat. I'm the life of the party as I make everyone laugh, and I cannot help but feel how wonderful – and familiar – it feels to be on a team, especially a cross country team, and I could not help but feel immensely proud of myself for winning first place and for making Nora and John not only feel proud of me but feel like that I'm their son. I'm so glad I can really run and that I'm placed in Nora and John's care. Life is great even if half my life is missing.


	37. Best Friends and Skateboarding

**Another chapter, and thanks NITRPSYCHO for beta reading**

**disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>It's only early November and already, Rex and I were friends, and Holly, Mark, Vicky, Rory, and Dwayne became my circle of friends. Not kids who claim that they're your friends and make you kill a guy, but real friends. Anyway, it was a Saturday afternoon and Rex and I were just chilling by a skateboard park. It was just the two of us. We asked Holly, Vicky, Mark, Rory, and Dwayne if they wanted to come, but Vicky was sick with the flue, Dwayne had to help his lame grandpa with the household chores, Mark and Holly had to visit some family members, and Rory was getting chewed out by his parents for his grades. So it was just Rex and me.<p>

We were just sitting on the streets, watching the skaters when I asked Rex, "How come you don't skateboard even though you brought your skateboard?"

"Because I suck at skateboarding dude," Rex replied. "My dad bought it for me on my thirteenth birthday, and I could never get the hang of it,"

"Okay then. How come you brought it?"

Rex shrugged. "Don't know. I thought maybe you might know how."

Rex rolled the skateboard to me was when it happened. As I picked it up, fuzzy visions of a giant figure doing highly skilled skateboard tricks on some terrain that I subconsciously identify as the insides of the sewers filled my head, giving me a migraine. Directions of how to skateboard 101 and how to perform highly, almost seeming inhumane tricks resurface. I feel the adrenaline rush of what feels like skating on the side of a tunnel, shredding a pipe a hundred feet off the ground, and jumping off of ramps and landing without a crash. I could feel the pain in my arms and legs when the giant dude did crash. I couldn't see him, but I could feel him… broken bones and all.

"Dude, are you okay?" Rex asks, seeing me clench onto my arm and looking dizzy.

Suddenly, it all goes away. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just give me that skateboard."

"Yeah, sure. Okay."

I grabbed the skateboard and headed over to the half pipe. At first I just skated, not doing anything special on the half pipe. It was more like a warm up. Once in a while, I slid and grinded against the edge of the half pipe. Then I began to get a little daring. I began getting a little more air when I get to the end of the half pipe – holding on to my skateboard to keep balance. Each time I got higher about ten feet at the maximum. When I got high enough, I did some twists with my body. Then I did this one trick in which as soon as I was airborne, I took my skateboard from under my feet with my right hand and gave it to my left hand which I used to put back under my feet. Then I landed on the half pipe without falling. Then at the other end of the half pipe, as soon as I made it up, with my left hand I grabbed onto the edge, hoisting my body so it was airborne while my left arm acted like an anchor. Then my skateboard landed back on the half pipe, and I let go. I did another trick in which as soon as I was airborne, I grabbed the back of my skateboard from behind my back so my stomach was arched forward before landing. Then when I skated to the next end of the half pipe, I did another twist, but this time I was crouched down.

As soon as my skateboard tricks became more complicated and more Tony Hawk like, I noticed skaters around me stopped skating and watched me as I did twists and handstands with my skateboard. I even did this one trick in which I started to do a one armed hand stand but instead let my skateboard roll free and did a backwards flip. I landed right back on my skateboard without falling. Kids cheered. I began gaining more air and using my balance more. I even did a backwards flip in mid air. I got the most cheers for that.

It went on like this for twenty more minutes or so, and each time I got airborne, I felt like I could truly fly. I could feel the familiar adrenaline rush, my heart pumping hyped up blood. Everything about me was on fire – the good fire like the kind when you feel like you're on the top of the world as long as you keep flying. And that's what I felt like. I knew I felt this feeling before, and I never want to stop feeling it. I did a few more mid air flips before I called it quits.

As soon as I was done, the whole skate park was applauding me. I walked down the stairs from the top of the half pipe. Rex greeted me at the bottom. "Dude, that was awesome! Who taught you how to skate like that? Tony Hawk?"

I shrugged. "I think I taught myself."

"Well, then you are a master of skateboarding. You're like the prince while Tony Hawk is the master. Are you his long lost son or something?"

"Who knows?" I joked around. I handed Rex his skateboard.

"No keep it! You deserve it more than I do."

"Thanks."

"Hah! I knew I was right when I chose to hang around you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're my best friend."

I was touched when Rex said that. For as much as I can try to remember, I don't think I ever had a best friend. I smiled as my insides melted. "Thanks, Rex. You know, you're my best friends, too. My first ever now that I think about it."

"Bros before hoes." Rex and I fist bumped. Rex slapped me on the back. Not in a mean way, but in a best friends, bros forever kind of way. "Come on; let's see what more you can do."


	38. Adoption

**It's my birthday! And to celebrate, I'm updating Who I Am. I'm also dedicating this chapter to my pop-pop who sadly passed away on my birthday. Pop-Pop, you hmay have never heard of _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_, and you've already lost your mind befoire I developed my writing skills, but we had plenty of fun times together so this is for you. Rest in peace.**

**Thank to NITRO PSYCHO for beta reading**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>The next day was a Sunday, and I had just gotten Nestor's letter. I took it to my room and flopped on my bed. I opened the envelope. It read:<p>

_Dear Mikey,_

_I understand you feel frustrated. That's normal, and it can take awhile for amnesiacs to recover. Sometimes they don't recover at all. I sincerely hope that doesn't happen to you. You deserve to have your memories back. But other than that, be patient. It will come to you. Sometimes just being around familiar settings, people, or objects speeds up the healing process. Other times it just comes with time. And if it doesn't happen, even without your memories, you will figure out and define your personality and interests again. You'll just have to rediscover them, and it seems like you're already doing that._

_It seems like you're having a good time at school, and you even made some new friends. That sounds great! By doing things that interest you such as running, drawing, writing, reading comic books, and watching your favorite movies, you will develop your own personality, and perhaps learn a little about yourself in the process just by doing what you love. Maybe you can share these things with your new friends. I would love to read a comic book that you created. I had a love of comics growing up. I often read _The Adventures of Batman and Robin _in the Sunday paper when I was a kid. I still get a kick out of them even in my old age. Anyway, take care. _

_Your friend,_

_Nestor_

_P.S. My e-mail address is .com_

I smiled. I love hearing from Nestor, and now that he and I have e-mail addresses, we can write to each other faster. I grabbed my laptop (John had a friend who gave it to him for some reason, and John decided to gave the laptop to me) and logged on. I was about to pull up the Internet when I heard Nora call.

"Mikey!"

I got up and opened the door. "Yeah?"

"Can you come down for a sec?"

"Sure!"

_I wonder what she wants,_ I thought as I climbed the stairs, _I hope I'm not being shipped to some other foster home._ I find Nora in the kitchen with John. They were sitting together not casually, but like they both wanted to have a serious discussion with me. This can't be good. Oh crud! What if I really am being sent off to another foster home? I don't want to leave here. I really like living with John and Nora and going to Union High School and being with all my friends and doing the things I love.

"What's up?" I casually ask. _Calm down. Calm down. Just breathe._

"We wanted to talk to you," Nora said. Her tone was normal but serious.

I took a seat and tried to stay calm. "About what?"

"Well, you've been here since July, and John and I have grown very fond of you, and since you have no relatives we were thinking about if we adopted you as our son," Nora explained.

Before I could say anything, John cut in, "But this is your choice, Michelangelo. If you don't want to, then you don't have to. You won't hurt our feelings if you say no, and if you do, we'll still take good care of you."

I was speechless. Never once did I ever think Nora and John would love me enough to adopt me. I always imagined that I have some kind of family in New York City, but what visions I receive – no matter how blurry and fuzzy – always appear to have only one person in it. A few times there was someone else – one person per vision – but they appeared so little that I figured they must be friends or acquaintances. I'm starting to doubt that I have a family, but here are two people who had the kindness in their hearts to take me in – a gangster and total stranger living on the streets – and give me food, water, and shelter and take an active part in my life – spending time with me, watching all my races, teaching me how to drive, ect. Then I remember Nora giving me a kiss on the head, and she and John saying "That's my boy" or some variation of it and "I'm so proud of you, son" and the feeling of self-pride whenever I hear that and the feeling compared to the feeling that no one has ever felt this pride in my accomplishments in my own interests. I feel tears of joy in my eyes. I realize that I love these people as if they were my own biological parents. I look up at them.

"I would love that, Mom, Dad."

They get up and hug me, and we stay like that for about an hour or so, feeling the love of a true, newly formed family. No one said a word but all was said. Later, I rush up to my room, pull up Internet explorer and log onto my e-mail account. I type up:

_Dear Nestor,_

_It doesn't matter if I never do find my family (although I have doubts that I do have one) or never find my memories, because I have a family and in a way, I know who I am now. Nora and John decided to adopt me. They said it was my choice, and I said yes! They love me as their own son the minute I arrived at their house, and I grew to love them as parents. I couldn't ask for better parents than them._

_As for knowing my identity, spending time with friends and sharing my interests with people has helped me shape who I am. Just but hanging out with Rex, Holly Vicky, Dwayne, Mark, and Rory I began to develop my highly social and talkative aspect of my personality, and just by spending time with John I grew to love comics and movies and became a kid at heart. Just by practicing with my teammates I discovered how fast and how strong I really was. And just by learning from Mr. Freedman and Ms. Darby, I developed my highly artistic and creative side. I'm a fun-loving, kid at heart, highly social kid who loves to express himself and not give a damn what others think, and I do this by either by drawing, writing, or willingly do the Macarena on the cafeteria table as a dare (I'll explain some other time) and enjoy it because it makes others laugh, and I love making people laugh. Plus, I'm the center of attention, and I have a good time dancing to a nineties song. I love pop culture, skateboarding, drawing, writing, animals, and eating pizza, and I have a thing for rescuing every stray cat or dog I come in contact with, especially cat. I just get high on life. And I love it! If I never get my memories back (I still hope I do), it won't be too big of a loss because I know who I am, and if I do end up having a family and I never see them again (I hope I do), it's not that big of a loss because I got two great parents whom I love so much! Thanks for helping me out, Nestor! Reply soon!_

_You're awesome friend,_

_Mikey_

I hit "send" and then lounge back with my feet on my desk. I got great friends, two loving parents, and an identity. Life is great!

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><p><strong>Next up the Hamato family!<strong>


	39. Broken Family

**Ch. 39, featuring the Hamato Family (other than Mikey). Thanks to NITRO PSYCHO for beta reading. Disclaimer: I don't own show**

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><p>"<em>So hold me when I'm here, right me when I'm wrong<br>Hold me when I'm scared and love me when I'm gone  
>Everything I am and everything in me<br>Wants to be the one you wanted me to be"_

- "When I'm Gone" by: 3 Doors Down

Master Splinter kneeled in his dojo meditating. Normally, meditation was a relaxing thing for him to do, but this particular session was hardcore because he strained every ounce mental energy he had to the point of agony to search for the presence of his lost son. The last time Master Splinter contacted his son was two years ago, and that was the last time. After realizing that Michelangelo doesn't remember him, the contact ended abruptly, and Master Splinter was never able to find Michelangelo again. All Master Splinter knew that his son has lost his memory. To the extent, he's not sure, but the worst part is that Master Splinter doesn't even know if his son is dead or alive. He hopes that not being able to contact his son is due to the fact that Michelangelo doesn't remember him rather than he has died, but he could be wrong. He just hoped it was the former.

Even though mediation was not working, Master Splinter still tried. He never gave up. It was the only thing he could do for his lost son. Perhaps it could give Master Splinter some sort of redemption because the last time he saw his son was in anger. It was after training, and his four sons were about to go on patrol, but before they left, he held Michelangelo back after practice to scold him for fooling around:

_Whack!_

_Michelangelo sat down rubbing his head. "Ouch! What was that for?"_

_Master Splinter sighed. "For the constant times you refused to focus and pay attention during this evening's training session."_

_"Well, it didn't mean you had to hit me!"_

_Master Splinter caned him again. "Do not talk to me in such a disrespectful tone, Michelangelo," he warned._

_"Sorry," Mikey mumbled._

_"You usually slack off during practice, but lately it has become more frequent. Now tell me, what is the cause of this, my son?"_

_Master Splinter noticed how hesitant his son looked to tell him, and he began to worry. His children could tell him anything, right? So why did Michelangelo look so scared to talk._

_"It's nothing," Michelangelo simply said._

_"My son, I demand the truth. You are right now on thin ice," Master Splinter threatened._

_"Okay fine. Well, lately I've been decided to pursue one of my dreams of becoming a comic book writer/artist so I've been coming up with plots and characters to make a comic book out of which is why I've been distracted lately," Michelangelo explained sheepishly._

_Master Splinter sighed, "Michelangelo, while it's good that you have dreams and aspirations, I'm afraid your dream is not possible because of what you are. The humans would rather dissect you than see what your mind has to offer."_

_"I know that, Master Splinter! That's why I want to create a comic book just for fun. I didn't have any intentions on publishing it," Mikey explained._

_"I see, but it is distracting you, my son. You need to focus on your ninja training instead."_

_Then Michelangelo bravely but weakly voiced up, "What if I'd rather pursue my interests than train?"_

_"Michelangelo, you are a ninja! You must train and always be prepared for battle, especially because humans might capture you and dissect you. If you were human than I would have no qualms about it, but you're not," Master Splinter snapped._

_Something dark flashed over Michelangelo's face like he had a darkened epiphany. Master Splinter noticed this and wondered if he reacted too strongly, but before he could say anything, Michelangelo got up and curtly said, "Fine, I'll focus more." And left to join his brothers on patrol._

That was the last time Master Splinter ever saw Michelangelo again.

It killed him that the last time he saw his precious son was in anger. When Leonardo delivered the news that Michelangelo was captured, shock and fear gripped his old heart, but most of all, the anger at himself for yelling at his son for something so trivial before never seeing him again is what really did the damage.

Ceasing his meditation for tonight, Master Splinter got up and decide to retire to his room, but as he passed his youngest son's room, something from that room called him, and Master Splinter obeyed. He sat on Michelangelo's bed and ran his fingers through his son's blanket that had been his since infancy. Flashbacks of Master Splinter tending to his infant son haunted his mind as he sat with the knowledge that Michelangelo may never come home again.

It was all too painful.

Master Splinter's ears pricked up when he heard footsteps that were heading this way. They stopped, and Master Splinter's eyes focused on the almost silhouette of his son Raphael, leaning against the doorway.

"Oh, you're here," Raphael said awkwardly. He turned around to go to his own room.

"Raphael, please come in," Master Splinter called out. Raphael turned around and entered. He sat on Mikey's bed.

For awhile, nothing was said between them, but both of them knew how the other felt, and Master Splinter longed to find the right words and comfort his son, but he knew that the only that would make Raphael truly happy is Mikey being home right now.

The smell of alcohol caught Master Splinter's nose. "My son, have you been drinking?"

"Yeah," Raph simply said. Too tired to care about what his father thought. Alcohol and beating the shit out of his punching bag were the only things that truly helped him deal with his frustration, going out at night to look for his little brother only served to increase his frustration at the lack of results.

Knowing that this was not the time to press upon his son's drinking, Master Splinter did not press upon the issue although he feared Raphael will turn into an alcoholic.

"Master Splinter?"

"Yes, my son?"

"Were you able to find Mikey?"

"No, my son. Ever since Michelangelo lost his memory of me, I was not able to contact him again although I try my hardest."

"Damn it!" Raphael shouted. The only fact that he was in Mikey's room prevented Raph from throwing something. "For two years, Mikey goes missing, and we haven't found a clue to where he might be minus a couple of useless documents plus a missing one. All we know is that Bishop has Mikey, who most likely has no clue who we are. For all we know, he could be in pain like Leatherhead when Bishop tortured him. He's probably scared and vulnerable."

Master Splinter placed a paw on his Raphael's shoulder. "I understand what you are feeling, my son. I fear, too, for Michelangelo, but we must stay strong and continue our search efforts for Michelangelo's sake, and we must always have hope. Hope is what keeps us motivated," Master Splinter comforted.

"I know, Master Splinter, but all I wanna do is find Mikey and pull him away from Bishop so I can beat the shit out of him," Raph stated. To emphasize, he clenched his right hand into a fist and pounded it into his left hand.

Master Splinter was about to say something when he and Raph heard a knock at the door. Both of them looked up to see Leo and Don peek in.  
>"Hey," an exhausted Leo said, "mind if we join you?"<p>

"Not at all, my sons," Master Splinter said, and he scooted over to make room for Leo and Don to sit.

Leo and Don sat down, and for a minute, no one said anything just relishing in the small comfort that although they are a broken family, they are not shattered for only one is missing, and the rest still had the hope that Mikey is alive and each other to lean on for strength and comfort.

Finally, Raph spoke. "Did yah find anything on Mikey, Don?"

"No," Don's voice was tired. "You?"

"Not even a scrap of evidence."

"I wonder what Mikey is doing." Leo asked.

"Who knows? With Bishop, he's probably scared and hurt. One thing's for sure, he doesn't know who we are," Raph answered.

"I hope Mikey's okay," Don said, "or at least alive."

"Michelangelo is strong. He will anything that Bishop throws at him," Master Splinter reassured Don.

Raph snorted. "He's probably undergoing a vivisection without an anesthesia. Just like what Bishop did to Leatherhead."

"Don't say that, Raph!" Leo shouted. The idea of his baby brother suffering agonizing pain was a hard concept to grasp, practically taboo.

"Well, it's probably true! I wouldn't put it past Bishop to do it. All he wants to do if find out what we are and how we came to be. Isn't that what he did to Leatherhead and almost did to us?" Raph argued. And in a much quieter voice – almost a whisper – Raph muttered, "Our little brother…suffering…alone." Raph almost began to cry.

Master Splinter cleared his throat. "My sons, while it is highly likely that grievous harm is being inflicted up Michelangelo right now, we must not lose ourselves when Michelangelo needs us more than ever. Remember this: While Bishop may be able to capture one of our own, he will never be able to hold him forever for we _will _save Michelangelo, and Michelangelo is strong enough to survive."

"Yes, sensei!" all three shouted.

For the rest of the night, the broken family reminisced on happier memories of Michelangelo and cringed at how much their baby is suffering as they speak while they do not realize that Michelangelo was having the best day of his life.


	40. Completed Family

**Sorry for the really long wait. Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles**

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><p>It's funny how you fear for the worst and even think of it, your mind playing terrible worst case scenarios and what-if's that it could pass for an Academy Award horror film, but in reality, these horrors never come to light, and your worst fears are simply paranoia as the best things are occurring right now. That's what Raph, Don, Leo, and Splinter all thought concerning Mikey. Sometimes some of their worst case scenarios were justified, but when each exhausted, broken, and grieving family member needed to unburden their souls to each other and share their worst fears, all the horror stories of what-if's ("What if Mikey's dead?" "What if he's being tortured right now?" "What if we never see him again?") and worst case scenarios ("He's probably undergoing a vivisection without an anesthesia" "Our little brother…suffering…alone." "Mikey might have further brain damage since he already doesn't remember us") had no justification since Mikey was relearning the meaning of having a family who loves you while celebrating under the tree that symbolizes it all.<p>

**Meanwhile**

After the judge officially declared us a family, Mom and Dad decided to celebrate by taking me to Rockefeller Center to see the big Christmas tree and to ice skate.

"I love Christmas, but why put up a giant Christmas tree before Thanksgiving?" I asked in the car.

"Probably because it takes a lot of time, work, and effort to find a tree in the Northwest, transport it down to the East Coast, and decorate it so I guess they need time to do all that. Plus, they want to leave it up for a long time for them and other people to enjoy the fruits of their labor," Dad answered.

"It also has to do with commercialism," Mom disdainfully said.

"Maybe, but I like to think of it as a tribute to peace on Earth and family," Dad said.

"Family?" I asked, confused.

"Sure. Why not? Christmas and – since it's coming up first – Thanksgiving are about spending time with family, and this will be the first Thanksgiving and Christmas with the newest member of our little family!" I smiled, and my stomach got all warm and fuzzy. It's nice to have a family who loves you.

I didn't need Dad's declaration that we've reached Rockefeller because once I saw that giant gazillion foot tall Christmas tree, I knew. It was only four in the afternoon, the sun beginning to set, but the tree looked like it was covered in stars of all colors. It was beautiful. If I had a house big enough, I would have a Christmas tree that big and that beautiful. Even though we were at Rockefeller, it took a while to find a parking space. This is New York City after all. If you find a parking space in less than a second in this city, you know you are on a parallel dimension. Finally finding one after a half hour later, we got out of the car and walked a block to the ice skating rink. We entered the small building where you pay and rent your skates. Of course we had to navigate bodies, sweaty from winter gear and a heater. The line was long so while we waited, I pulled out my iPod and listened to Jimmy Buffet (I love anything that comes out of that guy's mouth).* Eventually, my mom got board so she and I listened to "Cheeseburger in Paradise" (my favorite Jimmy Buffet song) and "Margaritaville". Finally, after a half hour of waiting, we all got our skates on.

I never thought of what it's like to walk on solid ground with inline skates. It felt awkward and a couple times I almost slipped, but once I was on the ice, it felt just right except rather than almost slipping, I landed on my tailbone once and slipped and landed on my right side twice. Ouch!

Dad skated over to me after falling on my left side for a change. "You okay there, son?"

I never get over the happy feeling when he calls me "son". It feels so good to belong to a family. Dad helps me up. "Yeah, I've just never skated before. I think I'm gonna be glued to the wall for the next two hours."

"I was never a good skater myself. You mom, on the other hand, is an angel on ice – beautiful and blades barely touching ice. She used to inline skate in competitions. She taught me you know."

I saw Mom skating in the middle of the rink, and boy Dad was right. She did a lot of airborne tricks as if she were an angel about to take flight. The glistening sun on her brown hair made it look as if she had a halo on, adding to the angel effect. While I can fly on my skateboard, Mom can fly on her ice skates.

"Come on," Dad said, supporting me, "Let's go make fools out of us next to your ice princess mother."

And so we did, but not too badly. We didn't fall often, but enough to show the world that we will never amount to pro status until pigs fly. Mom laughed at us, calling us uncoordinated buffoons. In response, I scratched the ice with the back of one of my skates and scooped up the snow formed from scratched up iced and made the world's smallest snowball and threw it at Mom. She laughed. Dad gave me a fist bump. "Nice job, kiddo!"

"You, too, are gonna get it, you know?" Mom said shaking her head with eyes plotting revenge.

"We've paid in advance, Mom. Dad and I fell on our tailbones at least once." Then dad pulled me in a one armed hug and gave me a noogie, "You little, rascal!" he said playfully while making sure I didn't fall.

"Oh, what am I suppose to do with you two?" Mom asked playfully.

"Divorce me and disown this kid that we call son," Dad said jokingly.

"Oh, you know I can't do that. He's my baby now," Mom said. She knew Dad was joking but calling me her baby wasn't.

Dad let go of me. "I thought I was your baby?" he said in mock hurt and disbelief.

I skated towards Mom, and she pulled me close for a one armed hug. "Not anymore. I have a son now. I'm finally a mother." She kissed me on top of my head.

Dad looked at both of us and his mood changed from humorous to sentimental. "He's our baby, our son, and I'm now a regular ole dad rather than just a foster dad."

"And you guys are my first real family," I said. "I love you, guys."

"And we love you, too," Dad said lovingly. That made me feel all warm and fuzzy and loved inside.

We skated some more until it was getting close to dinner time. After swapping skates for sneakers, we took the outside elevator to the underground food court where we ordered pizza and Cokes. I was enjoying the cheesy gooiness when Dad lifted his bottle of Coke and said, "I propose a toast to our new family. May God give us the strength to be there for each other during tough times and good times and lasting love for one another."

Mom and I banged our bottles against Dad's and each others. After dinner, we strolled around until it was finally time to go home. By the time, we've reached topside, the sky had turned black, and the tree stood proudly in its full glamour as green, red, blue, and yellow lights twinkled like stars. New York City is infamous for its light pollution, and there are so many bigger and brighter lights, but none of them could diminish the beauty of the lights on this tree.

"Stand in front of the tree," Mom said to me and Dad. "I want to get a picture of you two."

However, a picture of two turned into a picture of three when a stranger offered to take the picture instead so I stood in front of Mom and Dad who both had their hands on my shoulders, and stood behind the great Christmas tree of New York City. As soon as the flash went off, the man handed back the camera to Mom.

But as this was going on, I looked up at the tree, admiring its beauty. Then I watch the late night ice skaters and think of the wonderful time I've had with my new family. When I came to New York Cut for the first time, I've never dreamed of having a family. As far as I was concerned, Nestor was the only human I could trust, and he became somewhat of a grandfather, father, mentor, and close friend mixed together towards me. Then I met Jet, Hot Shot, Shark, Sting Ray, and the Turks. At first I thought they would be like my family. Maybe not family in the true sense, but people who would always looked out for me, care for me, and protect me. Now I realize that I was wrong, and the word "gang" is listed as an antonym for "family". Only Sting Ray might break this notion, but then I met Nora and John. I thought I would live with them, and then get shipped off to some other home before adoption, but no. Nora and John saw something special in me. Their hearts grew big enough to take me in, and so did my heart, and now look what happened. I am officially their son, and I love these guys with all my heart, and I know Nora and John feel the same way, too. Heck, they said I'm their baby, and hugged me for hours when I first called them Mom and Dad.

November has barely begun, and a Christmas tree has already been put yup. Mom's right that it has a lot to do with commercialism, but Dad is even more right. Thanksgiving and Christmas are about family, and that tree symbolizes that for both holidays.

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><p><strong>* This is canon. On Mikey's official profile, Jimmy Buffet is listed as his favorite type of music along with rap, techno, and surf <strong>


	41. Chance Meeting

**This chapter will be the next best thing to Mikey meeting his family. Read on, and you'll see why. Do I really need to put up a disclaimer at this stage of the game?**

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><p>"<em>It's been ten fucking years<em>

_Since I've been seeing your face 'round here_

_And you're walking away and I will drown in _

_The fear"_

- "Kill All Your Friends" by: My Chemical Romance

**Five days later, Mikey's POV**

It was after school Friday, and I accompanied my mom to some antique store called Second Time Around so she could buy Dad a Christmas present. I guess she hopes she could buy some pristine comic books straight from the forties, and she brought me to be her expert. I keep telling her that she's not gonna find any here but at a comic store, but she keeps saying that "we'll try anyway". What good is it me being the expert if she wouldn't listen to me anyway? Doesn't make sense.

Anyway, we entered the store, and the bell on the door rings. As soon as I enter, a wave of familiarity crashes all around me. I pause, hoping a blurry, muffled flashback will arrive since they seem to be triggered by familiar things or actions, but nothing flashes through my mind so instead I let my eyes soak up the place.

It's quite nice. Cozy even. The floors are wooden, and there's yellow dry ceiling. The counter is glass with a single cash register. There's a shelf behind the cash register with old stuff on top, collecting dust and a pair of musketeer swords hanging on the wall. Man! What would I kill for a pair of those swords? There's a suit of armor by the window towards the front of the store. I think about climbing inside. I think I will.

"Don't even think about it, Mikey," Moms says firmly.

"How'd you know?" I ask surprised. "Telepathy?"

"I'm your mother. I may not be your biological mother, but I still sense what you're thinking, especially if it gets you in trouble or injured or killed. Just be patient."

I playfully stick my tongue at her behind her back. Mom rings the little bell, and I pull out my Nintendo DS and start playing a Mario game. After about five minutes of waiting, a voice sounds among the music with a "Hi. May I help you?"

That voice shocks me. Not because I wasn't expecting it. No, someone was bound to come eventually and say those words, but I'm shocked at the familiarity of it. I look up and see a red headed woman in her twenties with a pink shirt and jeans. Her skin is so pale, a stark contrast from her red lipstick and red hair, and her eyes are green. I can't help but stare at her and wish some flashback will come, but it doesn't, and I don't know why. Maybe I'm rejecting some part of my past. I don't know, but still, I can't keep from staring.

The woman catches me in her eye and looks at me. Not rudely because I'm staring like there's something familiar about me. Does she know me? Do I know her?

"Ummm. Hello?" my mom asks.

The woman is ceases staring at me. "Oh sorry about that. Do you need anything?"

"Yes, I was wondering if you have any Batman comics from the forties. Also, do you happen to have a bathroom I can use?"

"Yes, just down the hall to your left." The woman pointed behind her with her thumb.

"Thank you." To me, she teased, "Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone." She smiled and left.

Rather than play my game, I kept staring at this woman while she rummaged through something behind the counter that can't be seen through the glass for something. I soaked in every detail of this woman, more than I did for the store. She seemed sisterly in a way. I feel like she's my big sister even though she's a complete and total stranger to me. And yet, she's not. There's no name tag on her or any little sign on the counter that states her name. Maybe I should ask. I'm pretty good at talking to people, especially with girls, but I can't find the words to do it without seeming like I'm prying at her. She already caught me staring at her like a freak.

But what I do notice are the frequent glances directed at my way. Maybe I'm wrong about her thinking that I was familiar somehow. Maybe she thinks I'm a rapist, and I'm going to attack her or something. I mean she caught me staring at her for a long period of time. That's gotta freak out any girl. I take a look at myself: baggy gray sweatpants, a white Union High School t-shirt, and my dad's old tan jacket. I don't look like a rapist, do I? No, I look like I just rolled out of bed. I definitely don't look intimidating. She's taller than me anyway. Plus those two swords are within her reach. I am no way a threat to her. So if that's the case, why is she looking at me like that? Does she know me?

Can't taking it any longer. I begin to say something, but my mom comes back from the bathroom. "I don't have them here. Let me check in storage," the woman says.

"Okay, thank you."

The woman goes the same way, my mom went to the bathroom, but doesn't go to the door on the left but to the door at the very end. My mom just chills. I think about mentioning my familiar feeling toward this woman and her frequent glances towards me to Mom, but then Mom might think I'm being rude or silly so instead I ask her something else off topic. "Hey, Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Tomorrow night Rex, Holly, Vicky, Rory, Mark, and Dwayne are going to the movies tomorrow night, and then hang around the mall and grab a bite to eat. They invited me so I was wondering if I can go."

"Hmmmm. Tomorrow night, you said?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I guess you can go provided that you have your cell phone with you at all times, and you come home before midnight."

"Alright! Thanks Mom!"

Then the woman appeared. "I'm sorry. I don't have any Batman comics from the forties."

"That's okay. Thank you anyway," my mom said. "Okay then, let's go, kiddo."

I followed her to the door but not without a one last backwards glance at the ginger.

She glanced back.

**That night, April's POV**

I lay wide away in my bed, thinking about that boy and the way he looked at me, and the way I looked at him. Familiarity. That's what I think about when I see him. I don't know why. I've never seen him before in my entire life, but by the way he looks at me, he feels the same way towards me. Could he be Michelangelo? He was around seventeen maybe sixteen, but he had that babyish look in his face like how Mikey was fifteen last time I saw him, but his grinning face made him seem younger. He had brown eyes that were exactly like Mikey's – laughing, full of mischief, and even a little innocent like. His hair was brown – the exact same color of his eyes – in a mop top hair cut but a little wild like he hasn't brushed it. Mikey was never neat whether be his room or himself. It's like that boy is the humanized form of Mikey.

But maybe I'm just wishfully thinking.

It's been such a long time since I've seen Mikey. Two years actually. I keep wondering how many more years till I get my "little brother" back. Every time I visit the Lair, I can see it in everyone's eyes – the hole in their hearts and the drained hope of bringing Mikey back. They are all so tired and so sad. I help Donny every time I visit; well, mostly I take over while he sleeps for twelve hours. It takes some convincing of Donny, but the tiredness overwhelms him, and he relents. Casey often goes out with Raph to either find Mikey or find someone Purple Dragon or any of their enemies and interrogate them for information. It always ends up fruitless. And in my darkest moments, I doubt that we will ever see Mikey again and that we should move on with our lives. But then I see the determination on Don's, Leo's, Raph's, and Splinter's faces and think of Mikey, hope clears all my doubts and a new round of determination fires up my willpower. I know I will see Mikey again!

But what about that boy? Are my hopes too diluted that I'm just about to believe anyone who even remotely looks like Mikey that he is Mikey? That boy looks like he could be the human version of him, and then there's Bishop's research that suggest changing organism's genetic structure, but it's impossible to change an organism's genetic code when they're already developed. The only way to do it is when they're egg and sperm. There's no way that Mikey is that boy. It's impossible! The only way that Splinter's, Don's, Raph's, and Leo's mutation was possible because their growth rate and intelligence rate was now being controlled by human hormones rather than turtle or rat hormones. Nothing genetic was being changed. Still, it would be nice if that boy was Mikey. Splinter said that Mikey lost memory of him. That's been two years ago. How far gone is Mikey now? Is he safe? Is he sane? I just hope he's alive. It's too much to ask that Mikey is safe and okay.

Yawing, I lay on my right side and go to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>What will happen next chapter? Tune in and find out<strong>


	42. Saturday Night Fun and Horrors

**This might be long, but I promise it's good. Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT**

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><p><strong>The next morning – April<strong>

I thought about telling Don and his family about that boy. He feels so familiar and looks like a humanized Mikey. Bishop's research does somewhat support that, but after a cup of coffee and much thinking, I decided no. It's impossible to change an already born organism into another organism so there's no way that could be Mikey. My hopes are just that wild enough to even think that, and why be the one to give Splinter and the Turtles false hopes only to have those hopes crushed when it turns out that boy is not Mikey? It's cruel and wrong. I just won't mention a thing about him to Don or anyone.

* * *

><p><strong>That night – Mikey<strong>

I hung out by the movie theaters with Dwayne, waiting for the others to show up. They should have been here fifteen minutes ago.

"Damn it, Dwayne. Where the hell are they?" I asked. I hate waiting. I hate anything that requires patience and waiting.

"Who knows dude? Girls take forever getting ready, and since Mark is Holly's brother, he has to suffer for her makeover. Also, Rex is always late. It's like he doesn't own a clock or something. I have no idea about Rory," Dwayne answered.

But sure enough Rory arrived. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic was hell."

"Sucks," Dwayne said as he bro fisted Rory.

"You should drive a police car," I say. "My dad uses the siren to get out of heavy traffic."

"Isn't that illegal?" Dwayne asked.

I shrug my shoulders. "Guess not."

A few minutes later Mark and Holly arrived, followed by Vicky, and five minutes later, Rex. "Okay. I vote that when we go to the mall, we buy Rex a watch," Dwayne said to us all, fed up with Rex's constant lateness.

"Haha," Rex sarcastically laughed. "Why don't you just steal one for me? I want mine made out of solid gold."

Dwayne pushed the back of Rex's head. "You racist bastard," he teased. Rex loves making racist black jokes towards Dwayne. Dwayne doesn't mind. He thinks they're funny, but he likes to act offended and sometimes retorts with a racist white joke.

Holly rolled her eyes at the two. "Are you boys done yet?"

"Yeah, Dwayne and Rex said in unison.

"Great," she said, "Are we all in agreement for _The Avengers_?"

"Yup!" I said. I was so excited for this movie. I love superhero movies!

"Okay then."

We lined up to get tickets. (Ugh! More waiting.) Ten minutes later, we get seven young adult tickets for _The Avengers_. We decide to get some popcorn, snacks, and drinks. However, the line was long and this old lady in front of me took forever to decide what she wanted (Grrr – More – grrr – feakin' waiting – grrr Can you tell now that I hate waiting with a burning passion?). I was amazed that I was still young and alive by the time it was my turn. I swear, at the pace she took deicing, I'll die an old man before I ever got to see the movie. Anyway, I ordered a large popcorn, a large Coke, ten king sized Reese's peanut butter cups, and four king sized Hershey bars.

"Man, Mikey, that's a lot of food," Vicky said between nibbles of popcorn. "You do realize we're going to eat afterwards?"

"Heh, what can I say? I have a metabolism that rivals Shaggy and Scooby Doo."

Vicky laughed. After Dwayne, Mark, Rory, and Holly got out of line with their snacks, we went to the ticket man, gave our tickets, and went to Theater B9. Inside, it was packed, but we found some good seats. We had thirty minutes to spare, but waiting for a movie isn't so bad because the previews are entertaining. We also whispered among ourselves when a boring preview aired, but when the movie started airing, we shut up, and our minds were transported to a state of superhero awesomeness! I was absorbed in every plot line, every character, every superpower, and the whole mythology of it. I pretended I was a superhero right along with them, saving the world from Thor's evil brother. The movie was so epic that my brain was focused only on its sheer awesomeness and not on eating my snacks.

Unfortunately, all good things end, and the end credits rolled. After the crowd exited, we got up. I didn't feel like carrying my bucket of popcorn with me all night, and I didn't have a car to drive so I just stuffed some in my face and threw it away. I'll keep the soda and candy. The soda will save me some money at the restaurant.

"Man that was epic!" I shouted.

"Agreed! Who could ever give bad reviews to that movie?" Rex asked.

"Idiots," Dwayne replied.

"Damn right!" Rex agreed.

"So where are we going to eat?" Mark asked.

"There's a little burger joint down at the mall. We could eat there and walk around," Holly answered.

"Sounds good to me," Rory said. "Any one wanna ride in my car?"

"I will," I said.

"Same here," Rex said.

"I'll ride with Holly and Mark," Vicky said.

"I'll go with you, Rory," Dwayne said.

We split off into who's riding with who. The whole car ride was filled with praising the movie and talking how epic it is. Then we got into a conversation of what superpowers we would have. I would want to fly. Rory wants X-Ray vision, mainly so he could do perverted acts. Dwayne wants to run faster than the speed of light, and Rex wants to have the ability to conjure food from out of nowhere. And Vicky thinks I'm the one with the food problem. By the time we got to the mall, we named our little superhero group the High School Badasses, saving the world while simultaneously saving kids from the evils of high school. Now that's some tough shit. Next up on our agenda is to recruit our other friends so as soon as we both find a place to park, Rory jumped out of the car and asked, "You guys wanna join our superhero group?"

Vicky and Holly looked at each other, and then said, "Sure. How?"

"Name your superpower, and you're in."

"Turning perverts into stone," Vicky replied. She probably had a feeling what Rory chose. By the way Rory's face looks, he probably knows, too.

"Changing colors like a chameleon," Holly said.

"Super strength," Mark said.

"Then welcome, recruits, to the High School Badasses, saving the world and kids from the evils of high school. Mikey can fly. Rex can create food from nowhere. Dwayne can run faster than the speed of light, and I have x-ray vision. All we need now are superhero names."

"Well, food first, then names," Holly said, sounding like Rex.

We entered the mall and found a McDonald's in the middle of the mall. Everyone else got double quarter pounders except for Rex and me who got Big Macs. We each paid for our own meals. The price of soda isn't that bad, and the meals are cheap, but I was glad that I still had my movie soda. It dwarfed the large sodas everyone else ordered. Afterwards, I snacked on two Reese's and a Hershey bar. When everyone finished their meals, we decided to walk around the mall before leaving. During our walk, we decided on our superhero names.

"So what should our superhero names be?" Holly asked.

"I'm Kick Ass," Mark said, "Because with my super strength, I can kick anyone's ass to the moon."

"And rip off the name of a superhero parody movie," Rex pointed out.

"Alright, wise guy, what's your superhero name then? Foodinator?"

"That's lame, man. I'm Killer Sauce."

"Killer Sauce?"

"Yeah, Killer Sauce. I burn my enemies like hot sauce, but I'm far deadlier."

We all laughed. "You've reached a new low, Rex. Foodinator would have been better than Killer Sauce," Mark remarked. "What about you, sis? What's your superhero name?"

"Well, since I compared my powers to a Chameleon, that'll be my name."

"Or you could be Octopus," I suggested. I dodged a swing from Holly. "Guess not."

"Well, I am Medusa since my powers were inspired by Medusa, and if Rory ever tries to use his X-ray vision on me, he'll be my very first stone statue," Vicky threatened.

"Hey, sweetheart, don't try to kill one of your teammates and friend. Also, call me X-Ray next time."

Vicky rolled her eyes while Dwayne said, "I'm Lightspeed since I can run faster than the speed of light. What about you, Mikey? What's your superhero name?"

I haven't really thought of one. Actually, this whole time, I've been watching them come up with names for themselves, reminding me of my fling with the Turks and how gang members would call themselves with a nickname to distinguish themselves as fully fledged Turks. There, they were gangsters out to rob banks and murder rival gang members as a sick form of initiation of a Turk wannabee or to protect land that honestly didn't even belong to them. And I almost killed someone just to belong. I can't believe I wanted to be a part of a gang. It makes me sick. But here, these guys are the same age as the Turks but are giving themselves nicknames in order to belong to a fake superhero group committed to doing good. We may not be serious, but the heart is in the right place, and we will never hurt or kill anyone or damage someone else's property. Most of all, we're true friends who look out for one another not some kind of gang that'll ditch you if the cops catch you. I'm glad that Rex, Mark, Rory, Dwayne, Holly, and Vicky accepted me into their group. I'm so lucky to have friends such as these guys.

So what's my superhero name? With the Turks, I wanted to be known as Runner because I'm always running whether it be away or to. Well, I'm done running. Next time I see Bishop, I'll kill him. I got a family that'll protect me. I'm already in New York, and even though I'm looking at a future with no memories of past experiences whatsoever, I know who I am. I have my personality and interests down pat. I'm no longer running. I'm flying in the air.

"I'm Warhawk," I say. "Because I can fly, and I know how to fight, and I'm not afraid to do so."

* * *

><p>An hour later, it was time to go home. We gathered around Rory's and Mark and Holly's cars.<p>

"Anyone need a ride?" Rory asked.

"Sure," Dwayne said.

"I'm riding with mark and Holly," Vicky said.

"How about you, Mikey?" Rory asked me, "or should I say Warhawk?"

"Nah, I'll fly home. I don't live too far away, and I'll make it home in plenty of time before curfew."

Rory laughed. "Okay then, I'll see you at school on Monday."

"Later, X-Ray."

We all said our goodbyes, and when the two cars left, I turned right and walked the moonlit sidewalk home. The night air is cool, and I think about going for a run. For now on, I'll only run for fun. Maybe I should time myself. I need to keep my speed and time up if I wanna stay at the top of my game, and it'll be good training for spring track. I check my cell phone time. Wait. 11:45? It's later than I thought. I should have taken up Rory's offer for a ride. Well, if I run fast enough and cut through this alleyway, I should be able to make it home in time. I start running. I feel the fresh night air being pumped into my lungs which in turn is pumped into my whole body. I am fueled on night air. Maybe I'll be light enough so I can actually fly. Now I'll really have the power of flight! I've just ran three blocks when the digital clock says 11:48. I think I really will make it home in time. Now just to find that shortcut...Oh, crap! I forgot which block it was on. Darn it! I'll just have to stop by at each alleyway and see if it's familiar or not. Or else I'll be grounded – cop style- by my very own father.

The next alleyway I see, I make a sharp right into its entrance. It's so dark that I can hardly tell if it's familiar or not. I use the light of my cell phone like a flashlight. I have to turn on the light every few minutes, but still, it's better than nothing. When I feel the brick wall at the end of the alleyway, I know that this isn't the right one. A creepy feeling that I'm being watched overcomes me, and I turn around to leave only to hear: "Hey, Runner, enjoying the night air?"

Chills run up my spine. Jet emerges from the dark, his cold face illuminated by the faint light of a dimming light, attached to the brick wall. Hot Shot and Shark expose themselves, too.

"We've missed you, buddy. Thought you might have abandoned us for good," Hot Shot said, his usual teasing voice now cruelly mocking. I clutch my fists. I am Warhawk not Runner. I fight not run.

"Don't think that now that you left, you can get away," Shark said. I wait for Sting Ray to emerge when I realize, he's not here.

"Where's Sting Ray?" I growl.

"Oh, don't worry about him. Sting Ray's not coming," Jet answered. The way he said it conveyed that something bad happened to him. Sting Ray's not like the other Turks. He's a good guy. He wants out, but he doesn't know how.

"What did you do to him?" I menacingly demanded.

"Nothing. Janko did stuff to him, but it's none of your damn business. The only thing you should be concerned about is your life," Jet answered. He was playing alpha dog in this standoff. I am the prey. They are the hunters, but the prey fights back to stay alive. I will too.

"Anyone who betrays the Turks or wants to leave gets killed," Shark said. "That's the rule of the gang. You left, and we know you spilled gang secrets to that damn cop now father. The police have been even more persistent in their attempts to end the Turks. Our descriptions and nicknames are in the paper."

"It's time you paid the price," Hot Shot threatened.

Then all hell broke loose. Hot Shot, Shark, and Jet dog piled me, but with the skills I learned from Bishop, I managed to fight them off. However, they outnumbered me, and after being away from Area 51 for so long, my fighting skills were dull. Plus I was a bit tired from running. Still, my punches and kicks were coordinated, and I fought better than them. I even managed to break Jet's nose and kick Hot Shot hard in the family jewels. I wrestled Shark to the ground, but Jet pushed me off him and attempted to slam my head against the concrete. I punched him hard in the kidneys, freeing myself. Then Hot Shot jumped on top of me and attempted to strangle me. I ran around like a bucking bronco, trying to not only keep my airways open but get Hot Shot the fuck off of me. I almost succeeded when Jet ran over and shoved a knife at my stomach. He takes it right out. I keeled over in pain. Hot Shot let go, and all I could see was the glint from the blade, promising me what could be a quick and painless death or a slow, painful one. I clutched my stomach, willing the pain to go away, the bleeding to stop, and holding onto my life. Now I really wish I took Rory's offer. Actually, I wish the High School Badasses were here right now, and our superpowers were real.

"Goodnight, Runner," Jet smiles and prepares to make the final stab, but something is thrown at the knife and is knocked right out of his hands. "Huh?" But Jet didn't have much time to think as three beings descended down upon him and Hot Shot and Shark.

There's fighting and shouting going on, but I start to black out. I remember that night when I was shot for not wanting to rob a convenience store, for not wanting to be a part of this. How fitting that I should die for fighting against Jet again because I must pay for my righteous decision in blood. I don't think I'll make it this time. There are no sirens signaling an ambulance is on its way. Personal nighttime is nearly upon me. _Goodbye Mom, Dad. I love you. Bye Nestor and Jetta. Thanks for helping me in my journey of self-discovery. Goodbye Rex, Rory, Mark, Dwayne, Holly, and Vicky. May the High School Badasses live on._

I think the fight ended, but I can't tell. However, the last thing I see before my whole world goes dark are three bulky creatures each with two straps of cloth flapping in the night wind.

* * *

><p><strong>There you go guys, the chapter you've all been waiting for.<strong>


	43. Lost and Found

**Now for the bros' POV on things. Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT or "We Are Young"**

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><p>"<em>Tonight<br>We are young  
>So let's set the world on fire<br>We can burn brighter  
>Than the sun<em>

_Carry me home tonight  
>Just carry me home tonight<br>Carry me home tonight  
>Just carry me home tonight"<em>

- "We Are Young" by: Fun. ft. Janelle Monáe

_An Hour earlier…_

Don was sitting at his desk scrolling through the Internet searches looking for any signs of his missing brother. The blue links and black words became meshed together against a white screen, looking like some kind of spilt black and blue paint against a white canvas. Whenever Don began seeing abstract art for a search engine, he gulped down coffee like a binge drinker, and the blue and black separated themselves into words on a computer screen. You think they would separate themselves into a map or a clue to Mikey's whereabouts, but they never did. Still, Don never gave hope.

Just then there was a knock on Don's door, but despite the slight jump in his skin, Don never bothered to turn around or ask who it was. Whoever it was, they were probably going to bother him about sleep, coffee intake, or if he found Mikey. Don was too tired to be bothered with any. He hadn't found Mikey as usual, and his sleep and coffee intake are his business alone. Sometimes he understood why Raph was always so rebellious against Leo.

However, the person at the door was not deterred as they let themselves in anyway. "Don?" It was Leo's voice. "'How long have you been at your computer?"

"None of your business," Don snapped without even looking at Leo.

Leo was a bit taken back by the normally peaceful turtle's bad mood but nonetheless plowed ahead. "Relax, bro, I was just here to ask if you want to go topside. I think all of us could use the exercise and the fresh air."

"Can't. Gotta find Mikey. Any minute spent not searching could mean prolonged suffering for our little brother." Don wished Leo would just leave right now.

"And how successful have you been lately?" Leo asked accusingly.

"Leo," Don growled. He was not in the mood.

"Listen, Don, physical exercise enhances intelligence, am I right? If you take a break and go topside, perhaps you might be more successful in your search when you come back. Allowing fresh air to clear your mind could help you take your search in a different angle. After all, that's what you told me once."

Don stopped scrolling and thought about it for a moment. Leo was right. Physical exercise does help thinking, and maybe he could take a break. Who knows? Afterwards, he might find a new way of looking and actually be successful. He turned around to face Leo for the first time. "Alright," he said in a much more relaxed mood.

Leo smiled. "Great."Then outside the doorway, he shouted, "Raph, Don's coming!"

"Alright!" Raph shouted back. A few minutes later he appeared at the threshold. "So are we going or what?"

"Yeah," Leo said. "Just to get out, stretch our legs, and have a little fun. No patrol."

"Leo having fun? Maybe you've been on the astral plane a little too long, Leo," Raph remarked.

"Ha ha. Very funny," Leo sarcastically laughed.

Donny exited out of his Internet search and shut down his computer. The three brothers left the lab. Just before they left the door, Leo shouted, "Master Splinter, we're going out topside for awhile."

Master Splinter entered the main room from the dojo. "Just be careful, my sons. I do not want to lose any of you just like I lost Michelangelo."

"We'll be careful. I promise," Leo reassured. Splinter nodded his head, and with that the brothers left the lair, running through the sewers to the nearest exit to the surface world.

As soon as Don poked his head into the cool night chill, his mind instantly became refreshed. It was as if the night wind blew away the stresses, worries, heavy thoughts, and hopeless ideas from his mind and dumping it far away. _Perhaps Leo was right, _Don thought. _Maybe I do need the fresh air._

While the fresh air did wonders for Don's mind, it was doing wonders for Raph's muscles. He tensed with excitement – the thrill of the hunt – forgetting that they weren't on patrol. Every time Raph emerged from the sewers, he felt like a mountain lion, concealed by the night, hunting for its prey. He was eager to get some exercise.

Being the leader, Leo couldn't entirely let loose. He already lost one brother while having a little fun topside. He wasn't about to lose another. He needed to keep his guard up while balancing rejuvenation and topside fun. It was essential to their search for Mikey and to keep their already broken family from falling apart. He turned around to face Don and Raph. "Come on. Let's go on the roofs and just go for a run. No racing. We stay together." There was no way they were going to repeat the night from two and a half years ago.

Don and Raph agreed, and they followed Leo up on a fire escape to the top of a building. The run felt exhilarating even without the adrenaline of competition. It felt like they were free from the sadness and grief. They weren't free from the longing for their little brother. No amount of running could change that, but for once  
>in their life since their seventeenth birthday, they felt happy and free like they could take over the world…if only they had Mikey to help them.<p>

Still, the run didn't keep the memories of that night at bay. The speed resurfaced that race just before Bishop arrived with an army to destroy the threads that bonded them to each other. How something so happy could turn so wrong? Grim determination was set on each of their faces to not let this night go wrong. That is why they're not racing; they need to keep each other in sight and within arm's reach.

No sounds of helicopters reached their ears but the sound of gang members' voices and one soon to be victim made them stop. The Turtles peered down an alleyway to see three teenage males corner another teenage male. The moonlight allowed the teenagers to be somewhat visible rather than silhouettes.

Raph notice the green jackets with the infamous T of the three teenagers doing the cornering. "Hey, since when did the Turks come back? I thought us and Nobody got rid of them."

Leo looked closer. "It appears their back. Question is what do they want with the kid?"

"What did you do to him?" the cornered teenager menacingly demanded.

"He sounds like Mikey," Donny nostalgically whispered.

"He feels familiar, too," Raph stated. The brothers continued to watch.

"Nothing. Janko did stuff to him, but it's none of your damn business. The only thing you should be concerned about is your life," one boy said. He appeared to be the leader of the group.

"Whatever they want, it can't be good," Leo said, wondering if he and his brothers should get involved or not. He didn't want to risk losing his brothers if he didn't have to. Then again, they had incredible success with gangs. Gang members are untrained and undisciplined. They were no match against trained ninjas.

"Anyone who betrays the Turks or wants to leave gets killed," another boy said. "That's the rule of the gang. You left, and we know you spilled gang secrets to that damn cop now father. The police have been even more persistent in their attempts to end the Turks. Our descriptions and nicknames are in the paper."

"Guess we now know what they want," Don said, "but I can't help but wonder who _is _that kid, and why does he seem so familiar?"

"It's time you paid the price," the third boy threatened.

Then a fight broke loose. Don, Leo, and Raph watched as the familiar looking boy defended himself against three angry gang members. "He appears to be trained. Granted, his skills could use some more work, but he seems to have knowledge in self-defense fighting," Leo said. As much as he didn't want to get his brothers involved in a gang fight, he couldn't help but feel intrigued (and protective?) over the boy. As soon as he saw the knife thrusted into the kid's stomach, he was the first to jump down and defend the boy. His brothers followed suit. Leo took on the leader of the back. Don took on the blonde haired kid while Raph took on the African American. The gang members were easy to defeat. The brothers wasted little energy on fighting. As soon as they finished they walked over to the boy with the knife in the side. Using his medical knowledge, Don took in the boy's injuries – a few bruises and a knife wound to the stomach, possibly tearing a hole into the organ, but with the looks of it, it didn't seem too deep. The boy was awake, but not for long as he passed out. Blood was beginning to form into a puddle.

Don bent down and examined the wound. It was best if he removed the knife at his laboratory where he could do it without causing further damage or pain. Right now he needed to stop the bleeding. He untied his mask and stuffed it around the wound. It wasn't enough. "Guys, give me your masks," he ordered. Leo and Raph obeyed, and Don used them as a tourniquet. Still, the thin strips of fabric weren't enough, and this boy needed medical attention pronto, and why did he feel so familiar?

Don stood up. "He needs medical attention ASAP. We'll take him to my laboratory. I don't think the ambulance will arrive in time if we call 911."

"Hold on, Don. We can't just bring some stranger to the Lair!" Leo objected.

"If we don't, he'll die," Don argued.

"Why don't we just carry him to the hospital?" Leo asked.

Don sighed. "It's too far away. My lab's the closest place that has what he needs to get better. And besides, doesn't this boy feel familiar to you? He even sounds like Mikey."

"Just because someone sounds like Mikey doesn't mean they are! He's human. There's no way he's our brother. Look we'll just risk carrying him," Leo counter-argued.

"I agree with, Don," Raph butted in. "He does feel familiar. The hospital's too far away and he doesn't have much time left. I say we take 'em."

"You're outnumbered, Leo," Don said. "We already wasted time arguing, and this kid needs immediate medical attention."

Leo thought for a minute. He agreed with Don and Raph; the boy is familiar. By the looks of it, the kid was barely holding on, and the hospital was too far away. He couldn't let some innocent human die. "Alright. We'll take him but hurry. Oh, and I'm not going to be the one to explain to Master Splinter why we brought a human to our Lair. You guys are on your own."

Don gently picked up the injured boy. The three jumped up the fire escape and jumped across rooftops, retracing their steps but going much faster. None of them wanted the kid to die on their watch and cause another family pain. No one should suffer what they had suffer. Missing and death are very close in the pain they cause. The only difference being that the former gives hope while the latter keeps your loved one separated forever. They landed on the last rooftop and quickly climbed down another fire escape. At the drain, Raph lifted up, and Leo and Don worked together to safely transport the boy down the sewer hole without causing further injury or pain. As soon as they were down, the three brothers ran quickly to the entrance of their Lair. As soon as they got there, they were greeted by the sight of their father as usual.

Master Splinter's smile from seeing his sons turned to a frown when he saw the strange boy in Donatello's arms. However, Don didn't even bothered to explain, heading straight to his lab instead and abandoning Leo and Raph to fend for themselves. He needed to save the boy's life first.

Master Splinter turned to his oldest sons. "Leonardo, Raphael, what is the meaning of this?"

"We found this kid at an alleyway being cornered by three Turks. The leader of the trio stabbed him the stomach. The hospital's too far away and Don was afraid that the ambulance would take too long to arrive so we brought him here," Raph explained.

"Also, he feels familiar. Like Mikey," Leo added.

Master Splinter sighed, "My sons, I know you miss your brother very much and while your intentions are pure, we cannot risk having the human see us. April, Casey, and Angel were not meant to be a part of our lives – "

"But they became our friends and would never betray us," Raph pointed out.

"That is true, but it was still a risk. We cannot let more humans into our lives. He might very well betray our secret. There is a great risk."

"I don't think so," Leo said. What was he doing? Only twenty minutes ago, he was protesting against bringing the boy here. Now he was defending the idea? "There's something about him that makes him trustworthy. I don't know. But regardless, we can't just let some innocent human die! He probably has a family! We can't let his family suffer the pain of losing their son like what we suffered from losing Mikey."

Master Splinter mulled over Leonardo's words. The wound in his heart was still fresh, and he ached for Michelangelo. Letting an innocent child die was strictly against his morals, and how could he let a parent suffer the wound of a lost child as he had suffered, especially when he could do something for him? "Fine, but if he wakes up, let me know. I wish to speak to this boy and make sure of his 'trustworthiness.'"

Master Splinter walked to the kitchen to brew some tea for the already forming headache that this stranger has brought. There was nothing Leo or Raph could do but want to stay near Donny's lab so Raph and Leo watched some TV since the living room was so close. A few hours later, Donny came out of the lab. "He's waking up."


	44. Panic Attack

**A chapter for you guys before I leave on vacation. Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT**

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><p>I slowly opened my eyes to a hospital room, or at least that's what it looked like. It wasn't sterile white but a brick room with the scent of roses covering a musky odor. I was on a cot of some kind rather than a bed with an IV and a heart monitor attached to me. To my left was some kind of laboratory setup with a laptop, various chemicals in test tubes, and the remains of a toaster. This place sort of reminds me of Bishop's lab.<p>

Bishop's lab.

My heart ran out of my chest, and I breathed as if I just finished running a marathon. He found me! He somehow tracked me to New York City; saved me from Jet, Hot Shot, and Shark; and dragged me back to Area 51. I'm never gonna see Mom or Dad or even Nestor and Jetta again, and I'm gonna be some kind of genetic freak!

Then the door opened. It wasn't Bishop or one of his employees but some overgrown, humanlike turtle with a purple bandana and a giant stick strapped to his shell. _Oh my god! It's one of Bishop's alien captives or experiments or whatever the hell they are! _I begin to have a full blown panic attack. _I'm screwed! I'm so fucking screwed! _If my head didn't feel so groggy, and if my abdomen didn't feel sore, I would have run the hell out of here.

The turtle thing calmly walked over to me. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Calm down."

My mind is running through memories of Stockman's sneering face, Bishop's sociopathic ways, abusive guards, being locked in a box in a room, and being treated like some kind of science experiment. My mind wants to run the hell out of my brain, but it can't when I'm facing one of Bishop's genetic experiments while lying down in one of Bishop's hospital/medical lab rooms. There's nowhere to run physically and mentally. I breathe harder.

"You were stabbed in the stomach by a gang member. Do you remember?" the humanoid turtle gently asked.

The only logic my mind registers on its desperate escape is an answer to a recent memory. I nodded. Then my mind realizes I can't escape the memories. My body feels like it's wrapped up in chains bolted to the bed with the heart monitor and IV hooked up to me. I can feel each rapid beeping sound from the heart monitor and the slow _drip, drip, drip _of the IV. It drives me insane, and I want out but now when I'm tied down and bolted to the floor.

The humanoid turtle doesn't touch me or come closer. His eyes worriedly bounce from me to the heart monitor and back. "Shhh," he says like he's calming a crying baby. "It's gonna be alright."

"Who are you?" I cough out between gasps of breaths. I want to know just what kind of nightmare I'm facing.

"My name's Donatello. I'm the one who saved your life. I promise I won't hurt you. Now just breathe and relax. You might worsen your stitched up wound."

I tried breathing. I may be in Bishop's secret hell, but I need to get calm so I can plan my escape accordingly. Donatello seemed to notice me frantically looking around as calmly explained, "Don't worry. You're in our hospital/lab. I live in the sewers with my family. I try to make this place as sanitary as possible to prevent any infection. You will be alright. I just want to check your vitals and make sure you are healing. Just calm down and breathe. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Logic starts to kick in, and my heart rate and breathing slow down to normal pace. My mind quits its marathon and realizes there was no need for escape. The imaginary chains unwrap themselves. The only things holding me down are the heart monitor and the IV. Bishop's labs were larger and more specialized than this one. Some of them – if they involved medical experimentation – looked more like hospital rooms (or hospital rooms from hell) in their sterile white, medical supplies, and smelled nice. This place is definitely not from Bishop's secret hideout. The whole sewer thing explains the musky odor.

When Donatello saw that I was calmed down, he asked, "Are you alright? I gave you some morphine to numb the pain, but if you begin to hurt, just let me know, and I will give you some more."

"Ok," I groggily said.

Donatello slowly walked towards me as if he were approaching a wounded, scared animal. "I'm just gonna check your wound to see if you're healing okay, alright?"

I nodded "yes" and watched intently as Donatello gently unwrapped the bandaging around my stomach. He's not one of Bishop's goons, but his resemblance to something that could come from Bishop makes me uneasy. On the other hand, I get that same vibe of familiarity from this mutant turtle. I feel like I've seen him before in some kind of fuzzy dream from long ago in some déjà vu scenario. I'm not sure whether to trust this vibe of familiarity or trust my uneasiness.

I get a good look at my wound. It was a two inch long scar with four stitches. "Luckily, the knife didn't penetrate your stomach. If it had, you surely would have been dead," Donatello explained. He seemed happy that I was alive. "Hmmm." Don proceeded to inspect the wound. "It appears to be healing quite nicely. No signs of infection. It's too early to replace the bandages so I'll just rewrap it." Don did just that.

I wanted to know more about this guy so I asked, "What are you?"

"I'm a mutant turtle. When my brothers and I were infants, we were dropped into the sewers and exposed to green ooze that mutated us, giving us humanlike intelligence and humanoid appearances. Because we were infants at exposure, we grew up as if we were human children. Our father, a sewer rat, found us and was exposed to the ooze from us. Because he was an adult, he skipped childhood and mutated straight into adulthood," Donatello calmly explained. He seemed really nice. I guess he just wanted to prevent me from going into another panic attack.

"You said brothers and father. Are there more of you?"

"Currently, I'm the youngest. I have two older brothers: Leonardo, the oldest, and Raphael, the second oldest. Both of them are mutant turtles like me. We were out one night, and we found you fighting off three gang members. When you were stabbed, we intervened and fought off your attackers. I'm the one who wanted to bring you home and patch you up. We also have a father who as you know now is a mutant rat."

"What do you mean by you 'currently' being the youngest?"

Donatello stopped rewrapping my bandages, and for a minute I was afraid that I said something to make him mad. Instead, he sadly smiled at me and said, "I'd rather not explain. It's too hard for our family to talk about."

"Oh, ok. Um, how old are you anyway?"

Donatello laughed. "You sure are curious. Most people run away in fear when they see me or one of my brothers."

"Well, as you can see, I can't run anywhere, and you did save my life so…" I trailed off. I didn't want to mention how familiar this guy feels.

"I'm seventeen so are Leo and Raph. My father, however, is probably the equivalent of a fifty-five-year-old man."

"I'm guessing Leo and Raph are nicknames for Leonardo and Raphael, respectively?"

"Yes, my brothers like to call me Don or Donny. My father's name is Splinter. You can call me Don if you wish."

"My name is Mikey Brown," I said. I didn't want to give this guy an alias, but I don't want him to know my full name. I don't know what my stance on this guy is.

"Mikey…" Don trailed off sadly, "that's a nice name."

"Thanks." I wonder if he knows someone by that name and if that someone is the reason why Don is currently the youngest. I don't ask. "So, um, how come I never hear or read about you guys in the news or magazines, or anything?"

"We lived in secret for most of our lives in fear of being dissected. Only a few amount of humans know of our existence, and even those humans stumbled into our lives by accident."

"For a guy who avoids the whole entire human species, you seem pretty trusting of me if you're telling me all of this." To not sound mean, I gave a good natured grin.

Don smiled as he finished rewrapping my wound. "Well, there's something about you…"

"Something about me?"

Don shook his head. "It's nothing. Listen, your wound is healing nice, and you seem awake enough. My father wants to talk to you. I will assure you he will not harm you or threaten you. He probably just wants to make sure you're trustworthy enough to keep our secret. Is that okay with you?"

I smiled. "I promise I won't scream or have another panic attack."

Don laughed. "If by any minute you feel pain or any complication during my father's talk with you, let him know, and he'll come get me."

"Ok." My stomach tingled, not knowing what's to be expected except that a mutant old rat wants to talk to me.

Don opened the door and left temporarily. In five minutes, a four foot gray rat, wearing a brown kimono and holding a cane appeared instead.

"Hello, Mikey Brown," he said calmly as if not to scare me.

_Well, _I thought, _this should be interesting._

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><p><strong>What will Splinter's talk be like? Tune in next time!<strong>


	45. The Talk

**Now that school has started., updates may be slow. Disclaimer: i don't own TMNT**

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><p><em>Mikey's POV…<em>

Splinter took a seat in Don's office chair. I stared at him intently, watching his every move in case he hurts me. Don assured me that this won't happen, but I don't know him even if my gut says otherwise. Better to be safe than sorry. Like Don, I still feel uneasy around this four foot, mutant rat. I watched as Splinter rolled the chair closer to me but not to close. "My name is Splinter, young one. However, you may address me as Master Splinter."

Master? Is he trying to make me his slave or something? I grip my sheets tighter. "Master?" I voice my concern but making it clear that this dude doesn't own me.

"Yes, I am a master in ninjutsu. My sons address me as 'Master Splinter' on daily basis. I am not only their father but their sensei," Splinter calmly explained.

I glare at him. "They're your kids, and you make them address you as master? That doesn't seem very fatherly to me. Actually, it seems pretty wrong." What am I doing? I don't even know this guy, and I'm speaking to him defiantly. I bet with his ninjutsu skills, he could kill me!

However, the rat smiles, or at least, looks like he's smiling. "I understand what you mean, but I assure you. I am not that kind of master in the sense you are applying. Despite how my sons address me as, there is still a father-son relationship between us, and I would gladly die to protect them."

I soften my stance a bit. "Still seems wrong." At least this guy isn't gonna kill me…yet.

Splinter nodded. "You are entitled to that opinion, but I can assure you that I will not harm or threaten you unless you threaten and/or my sons."

"As you can see, I'm in no position to move much less threaten anybody," I say steadily but not defiantly.

"I can see that. Now Donatello informs me that you had a panic attack when you saw him. Most humans react in fear when they see us, but your reaction was extreme. May I ask why?"

Could I tell him? Could I tell him that I thought I was back in my living hell and was about to be turned into a mindless slave? Could I tell him that I thought his son was one of Bishop's alien captives or genetic experiments about to put me through hell? Would he turn me in? Would he react in fear or sympathy? Can I tell anyone about where I came from? The answer is simple. "I don't want to talk about it."

He hears the firmness in my voice and leaves it at that. "As you wish. Now I came here to talk to you. When my sons found you unconscious and bleeding in an alleyway, they brought you here, claiming you feel familiar to them. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Familiar to them? I do have this familiar feeling around Don and Splinter, and I feel like I've seen Don somewhere before, and now that I think about it, I feel like I've seen Splinter before. It's all fuzzy, and I don't know if they looked exactly like the images in my head. But should I tell him the truth or not? In all honesty, I still don't trust my surroundings. I know I'm not in Bishop's lab, but that doesn't mean I'm completely safe from harm. For all I know, these guys could (and that possibility is most likely) have a connection with Bishop. So I beat around the bush and say, "What do you mean?"

"You remind them of their long lost brother who coincidently shares the same nickname as you. They feel like they can trust you without even knowing you," Splinter explained. "Personally, I believe that their grief is clouding their minds, but I agreed that we cannot let an innocent boy die."

So that explains why Don is "currently" the youngest and why he doesn't want to talk about it. Poor guy. I can't imagine what it's like to lose a sibling although it would be nice to have a brother. A big brother perhaps? Never mind about that. This rat is claiming that his sons feel a familiarity towards me. To tell the truth, I feel the same way or at least to Don and Splinter, but can I trust them enough to give him a straight answer? The images have stopped coming a long time ago, and I've always wonder why. I think it has to do with a suppressed desire from the subconscious like I was something from before, and I don't want to be that ever again. (I read about that in my mom's psychology book.) After I heard Don explained why I've never heard about them, I wouldn't want to be a mutant living in secret at all. I enjoy being human. It makes me feel like I'm alive, like I belong. I wouldn't want to be this guy.

But I'm getting off track, should I give this guy a straight answer? Answer: Sort of. I'll trust my suppressed subconscious desires before I trust my gut until I get a grip on this guy. "Maybe. After I got over my panic attack, I felt calm like I knew Don wasn't going to hurt me even without his constant reassurances. I even felt brave enough to ask him some questions, and I feel like I know you won't hurt me either. Part of me feels like I can trust you both, but a part of me feels like I should get to know you guys better before I fully trust you." I leave out my familiar feeling and weird images of them.

"Hmmm. I see. Now I need to know one more thing," Splinter said. I can't read his emotions or facial expression to see if he believed me or not.

"What?" I ask curiously.

"Only a few humans know of our existence. I need to know if you are trustworthy enough to keep our secret. Should you not, I fear my family will come to harm by your scientists. I've already lost one son. I don't want to lose anymore."

Unlike everything this guys has said before, I can trust him on this. His sons saved my life, and even though I don't completely know him, I don't want to see him or his family be split apart. I feel like I can relate. Maybe it has to do with my experience of not having a family until Nora and John came around or maybe it has to do with my past life, but regardless, his sons saved my life so I owe it to them. "You have my word."

"Thank you."

I yawned. "You need rest now. I have said what I have needed to say."

"Ok," I groggily said while my eyes close, and my mind drifts off to sleep.

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><p><em>Third Person POV…<em>

"Sleep well, Michelangelo," Master Splinter sadly muttered under his breath as he closed the door. He didn't call Mikey "Michelangelo" because he knew Mikey was really his long lost son. No, he called Mikey "Michelangelo" because Master Splinter felt a certain kinship to the boy, and the similar names only made that kinship feel even more real. Master Splinter's heart ached for his long lost son. He wished that that boy lying on the cot was really Michelangelo, but despite Bishop's intelligence in genetics, he was constantly assured by Don that it was impossible to change specie's genes unless the certain species was only a fertilized egg in the womb. In that case, there was no way that boy was Michelangelo, but why did Master Splinter felt familiarity towards him? "He's resting now," Master Splinter said to his sons waiting just outside the lab.

"So, Master Splinter, what did he say?" Raph asked.

"I questioned Mikey on his extreme reaction to seeing Don, but he stated that he did not want to talk about it," Master Splinter said.

"Probably was embarrassed that he got caught panicking like a girl," Raph said. "Poor kid. Probably lost his manhood right in Donny's lab." Raph chuckled.

"No Raph," Don nearly growled at him. "It could be a sign of past abuse or trauma."

Master Splinter intervened before an argument could break out. "Regardless of the reason, I did not question him about it."

"Can we trust him to keep our secret, master Splinter?" Leo asked, concerned for his family.

Master Splinter nodded. "He gave me his word. Now I did question him on why you three feel some sort of kinship towards him."

This perked up the three brothers. "What did he say?" Leo asked, excitedly. Perhaps they were gonna get answers on their little brother's disappearance.

"He said that he might know what you three felt. He told me that after he got over his initial reaction upon seeing Don, Mikey felt relaxed and safe around Donatello even without Donatello's reassurance. He even felt the same way towards me. A part of him feels like he could trust both of us although a part of him feels like he should get to know us before he could fully trust us."

"The latter is understandable. It takes a long time to build up trust," Don said.

"Do you believe him, Master Splinter?" Leo asked.

"Something tells me he's not telling me the full truth. It may be because that he doesn't trust me completely," Master Splinter replied. "Even I admit I feel a sort of kinship to the boy."

"Well, regardless, we can't let him go when he's all bandaged up," Raph said.

"I agree with Raph. He still needs to recover," Don said.

"But his parents are probably out looking for him. It might take weeks for him to fully recover, and what happens when he's finally reunited with his parents, his parents and probably the media and the police wanna know where he's been," Leo said.

"He gave us his word that he won't spill our secret," Raph argued.

"I'm not doubting his word, Raph. I'm just saying that as soon as he's released, there will be a lot of pressure put on him to talk. I bet he's got the police out looking for him," Leo counter-argued.

"Guys, we can worry about this later when he wakes up. For now, let's just get some sleep. It's been a long night," Don intervened.

"I agree with Donatello, my sons. Let us all get some rest."

Raphael yawned. "Goodnight guys." He headed off to his room.

"Night, Raph," Leo said.

"See you in the morning, bro," Don said.

"Goodnight, my sons."

They finished saying their "good nights" and went to bed each dreaming about Michelangelo and the mysterious boy in the lab.


	46. Missing Child

**Sorry it took so long. Happy Halloween! (especially to those living in north east United States. You're gonna need a happy Halloween with that Frankenstorm coming your way) Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT**

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><p>"Mornin' Leo," Raph greeted while chugging down a jug of milk as Leo walked into the kitchen.<p>

Leo cringed as he saw most of the milk being sucked into Raph's mouth and Raph's saliva being spread all around the bottle's opening. No doubt getting mixed in with the milk. "Raph, we drink that stuff also."

"And hello to you, too, Fearless," Raph sarcastically said. He slammed the now quarter full jug on the kitchen table and used his arm to wipe away his milk moustache.

Leo sarcastically laughed and prepared to make toast. However, Raph stopped him. "Got your breakfast in the fridge. It's cereal."

"Umm, thanks," Leo said awkwardly. He wasn't used to this kind gesture, especially from Raph.

"Yeah, well, I didn't want you setting the place on fire," Raph said.

_Of course, _Leo thought. _Raph would only cook for me so he doesn't have to endure my cooking. _He opened the fridge and grabbed the bowl of cereal.

"I was thinking about making you some toast, but Don didn't want the microwave to blow up while you heat it up," Raph joked.

"I may not be the best chef in the world, but I am more than capable when it comes to the basics of cooking," Leo shot back.

"Yeah, so says the guy who set the kitchen on fire by heating up peanut butter in a plastic container in the microwave," Raph chortled. "You know that's taboo when it comes to the usage of microwaves."

"Whatever." Leo sat down and ate his cereal in silence until a thought came to him. "Where's Don?"

"Checking up on the kid and feeding him," Raph said nonchalantly.

"Ok."

The two continue to coexist in silence until Master Splinter came to the kitchen. "Good morning, my sons." He walked over to the stove and got out some ingredients for tea.

"Morning, Master Splinter," both turtles said in unison.

Splinter began boiling some water. As he waited for the water to reach boiling point, he asked, "My sons, where is Donatello?"

"He's with Mikey," Leo said.

"I see," Master Splinter said.

An awkward silence filled the air. The problems of last night were resurfacing. "So what do we do?" Raph asked. "His parents are probably goin' psycho without the kid, and I bet the police are after him."

"He's willing to keep our secret, but with media, parental, and police pressuring him to talk, how long until he might crack and tell?" Leo asked.

"As I recall, Mikey has taken a knife to the stomach and still needs to recover. Perhaps it is best to make our decision based on Donatello's medical expertise on Mikey's wounds," Mater Splinter said.

"And speaking of Don, here he is," Raph said as Don entered the kitchen, looking tired and worn.

Don sat down at the kitchen table to take a short rest before getting back up again to prepare himself some breakfast.

"So, Don, what is Mikey's status?" Leo asked.

"He's healing quite well, but it'll probably take a month to recover," Don said. "I'd like to keep him here until he completely recovers."

"So we'll keep the kid until recovery, and then what? Release him and risk exposure?" Raph asked.

"Well, I could always create some false evidence and give Mikey a cover story like he was kidnapped by the Turks or pedophiles. Maybe I can get that evidence to point to Mikey's assailants and get them arrested for attempted murder," Don explained.

"Should we tell Casey and April about this?" Raph asked.

"No, we found Mikey pretty close to Casey's place. The police might be asking the neighbor's questions. It's safer if Casey doesn't know, and if we tell April, she might tell Casey," Don explained.

"Okay."

"So it's settled, Mikey stays with us until full recovery while Don tries to lead the media and the police away from us?" Leo asked.

"Agreed," Raph said.

"I think it is wise, my sons," Master Splinter said. "I just hope it will not make our new friend angry for being kept away from his family." With that, Master Splinter took his brewed tea and left for his room.

Don got up. "I'll go tell him."

Raph grabbed his arm. "Not until you eat something first. If you don't eat now, you'll never eat."

Don smiled. "I'd eat more often if Mikey was here to cook. You can't blame me when Leo's cooking."

"Everybody's a critic," Leo muttered.

Don made himself toast and some coffee. As soon as Don's meal was prepared, Leo left to train, and Raph left to watch some TV. Don ate in silence, thinking what reasonable cover story he could think of. It probably couldn't be a kidnapping because that would lead to innocent people getting prosecuted and sentenced to jail. He did want those kids who tried to kill Mikey put in jail. Just the mere thought of those punks injuring Mikey made Don seethe with rage.

_Strange... I don't even know this kid, and I react as if he was my brother. I do feel a connection to him and so do everyone else, and his name. His name is exactly like my missing brother's or at least, his nickname is. Could he really be our brother? No, it has t be a coincidence. It's impossible to change the species of something after they're fully developed, but knowing Bishop, I wouldn't put it pass him. Those documents April stole did talk about rDNA, a man-made unique segment of DNA, and hox genes, and a determinant of body position. Maybe I should take a DNA test of the boy and compare it to Mikey's DNA._

Don finished his meal and put his plates and mug in the sink. It was his job to wash the dishes, but he wanted to tell Mikey the news first and maybe get some answers. He took out the extra toast from the toaster and butted them. He made some chocolate milk and brought it to Mikey.

When Mikey saw the food, he said, "Is that for me?"

"Yes," Don said.

Mikey smiled. "Boy, and here I thought the only nutrients I was gonna get was from the IV."

Don laughed. "Well, the knife hasn't pierced your stomach so it's okay if you eat something. Here." He set the plate on Mikey's lab and the chocolate milk on a table next to Mikey. Don watched as Mikey chowed down like he hadn't eaten for days. _He even eats like my brother._

When Mikey finished, Don handed him a napkin and prepared a needle to take in some blood. Mikey saw the needle and froze up. "What are you doing?" he said in the most serious voice ever.

Don looked over at Mikey. "I'm preparing a needle to take a blood sample."

"Why?"

"To check for signs of bacterial infection," Don lied.

"Isn't there another way? Like taking off the bandages and seeing if the wound's infected or not?"

"This way's better. It lets me see the pathogenic bacteria before the infection starts. Why?" _It's true, _Don thought.

Mikey fidgeted. "Well, I'm kinda scared of needles, or at least, needles used for medical reasons."

_Just like my brother, _Don thought sadly and suspiciously. "Well, don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm sucking something rather than injecting something so it shouldn't hurt."

"Ok."

Don brought the syringe to Mikey and pulled out his arm. Aiming for a large vein, Don took in a small amount of blood while Mikey looked away. Don pulled out the needle. "See? No harm."

Mikey rubbed his arm where the needle was even though there was no reason to do so. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Don sighed. "Listen. It should take a month until you fully recover. I need to keep you here until that time so you can't go home yet."

"What?! What do you mean I can't go home? What about my family? What about my friends. And I can't believe I'm saying this: what about school?"

"For school, you're just gonna have to make up the work. If you want, I can always tutor you in whatever you need tutoring. About your friends and family, well, they're gonna have to deal with you missing until I give you a clean bill of health. When I do release you, I can't have you telling about us, and although you gave us your word, the media, police, your parents, and maybe even lawyers will pressure you to talk. I don't know how good you are at sustain said pressure so I'm gonna give you a cover story once I think of one, and while you're recovering, I'm gonna create false evidence to back up that story," Don explained, feeling very much like a kidnapper despite the contrary.

"You've done your part. Can't you just bring me to a hospital and let the nurses and doctors do the rest?" Mikey asked, scared at the idea of spending a month with these strangers without seeing his friends and family.

"Sorry, but I like to see my patients through to the end. I promise you'll be treated very well here. No one will hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. You can even play videogames here if you want," Don tried to ease the boy's distress.

"Well, I do like videogames. Fine, but if you guys do anything bad to me, I'm getting the heck out of here."

"I give you my word that that won't happen."

* * *

><p><strong>Meanwhile…<strong>

"Blood stain?...Know who's it from?...Any possible connection…Got any other leads?...Alright call you back…Bye." John hanged up his phone and turned to Nora who was watching him with worried eyes.

"That was Kevin, my partner. They found a blood stained knife with some finger prints in an alleyway by Parkway Street yesterday. A neighbor said she heard a commotion last night and a boy screaming in pain. I asked if they knew who the blood belonged to, and he said forensics was working on it. Parkway is a little off from our house if you walk here from the mall. It could be where Mikey disappeared from although I hope not. So far there are no leads on his whereabouts," John somberly explained.

Nora burst into tears. "Our boy's been missing for a couple days and already a murder weapon? John, what if Mikey's not missing but dead, and we're really looking for a body not a boy?"

John ran up and hugged his wife. He too feared the same thing. He was only a father for a short time. He did not want that time to be stolen forever. Mikey is his son even though he shares no blood relation and was only in his life for less than a year. John would do anything to get his boy back safe and alive. "There's a lot of gang activity up here. It might not have to do with Mikey." John didn't feel comforted by his own words. He knew Mikey was involved in a gang before he came to live with him and his wife, and he was shot by a gangster when he first met Mikey. Could his ex-gang want revenge? As much as he knew the possibility is very true, he couldn't voice these thoughts to his wife.

"Mikey was involved in a gang and shot by one of the members, too," Nora rebuffed.

_There's no hiding from her._ John kissed the top of Nora's head. "I've got all my best men and women looking for him. We're bound to find him."

"I just hope my baby is safe and alive. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him," Nora lamented.

"I know. We've just gotta hold onto hope and pour our blood and sweat into finding Mikey."

They embraced for a long time, longing for their lost son.

* * *

><p><strong>Not long after in Area 51<strong>

The helicopter sounded like an angry hive of bees as Bishop and Baxter Stockman walked to the mobile hive as guards stood by.

"So we're now going back for Michelangelo?" Stockman asked.

"Precisely," Bishop said matter-of-factly. "My lab in New York City is fully repaired. I would have gone after him sooner, but with his memory loss, I was curious to see where he would end up if instinct and buried memories would take him somewhere. It seems I was right that it led him straight to New York City although I was surprised that he managed to survive the desert and find a passageway to the Big Apple. I should thank Mr. Goodman for taking a good care of my science project. I just hope for my sake, Michelangelo still doesn't know who he is now that I lost track of him."

"Wouldn't it be best to capture Mr. Goodman and use him as bait to lure Michelangelo to us? You know he won't come willingly. He will only make things harder for us," Stockman suggested.

"That will only create an unnecessary burden. I still need to prepare my lab for Michelangelo's arrival. I do not want to be burdened with keeping a human captive while we work, and besides, I'm sure Michelangelo has made friends in New York City. Perhaps they will be just as useful to play the part of bait if we come to that. Now come along, Stockman," Bishop boarded the helicopter.

"Yes, sir," Stockman said as he was helped onto the helicopter by a guard. As soon as he was safely on board, the guard closed the helicopter door and locked it. He signaled to the pilot, and the pilot took off. Stockman and Bishop took a one last look at Area 51 before heading to the Big Apple.

* * *

><p><strong>And you guys thought I forgot about them<strong>


	47. Leo and Mikey

**I cannot believe I haven't updatred since October. I always hated when authors take forever to update, and now I'm becoming one of them. Well, here it is**

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><p><strong>Mikey's POV<strong>

After a week, Don let me get up and walk around. He gave me a tour of the Lair and showed me my temporary room – Don's youngest brother's room that the owner either by coincidence or not shares my name. There was a lot of sadness when Don showed me this room, and the red banded turtle Raph seemed kinda angry that I was sleeping here as if Michelangelo was being replaced. I can't blame him, but I really like the room. It looks like my room back home minus the sewer smell and brick floor, walls, and ceiling. The bed was unmade and a blanket thrown haphazardly on the bed. Comic books were scattered in a corner of the floor due to having no room in the book shelf. There were posters of superheroes, superhero movies, and some of my favorite bands taped all over the wall. As I run my hand over the things, I felt like something was trying to break the barrier of my subconscious that the drugs and I myself have created. I can feel the cracks forming.

"Thanks, Don," I said after giving it a thorough inspection.

"No problem," he said with a slight hint of sorrow in his voice.

"Think Raph will get over me taking over your brother's room temporarily?"

"Yeah, Raph may get mad a lot, but he doesn't hold grudges unless, of course, you've hurt him or us," Don said.

"That's good. I'm afraid he's gonna kill me in my sleep!" I joked. Don laughed.

"Anyway," he said, "I'll leave you to get settled."

Don left, and I felt looked around the room some more, but this time, I did a more thorough search. It wasn't out of curiosity. Or maybe it was, depending how you look at it. Cracks in the barrier started to form when I touched the objects here. Maybe if I did a more thorough observation, those cracks will move stone. I've scanned through the comics, but the only familiarity I got was that I've read these before at home. I looked at the posters as if I were trying to find the meaning in a painting, but all I got was that I seen or heard the representations at home. Then I found a sketchpad and looked through it. I saw pictures of the mutant family, a cat named Klunk, tons of superhero fanart, and some pictures of superheroes that my mind immediately identified as original characters. As I saw the pictures, especially the drawings of the original characters, I felt the cracks picking up movement and spreading across the wall. It was only when I came to the last page where I could feel small amounts of dusty concrete trick from the wall.

It was a self-portrait of Michelangelo.

It was a full body drawing with him in an epic pose: right foot on a rock, left foot on the ground, while waves crashed around him, lighting struck behind him, and some kind of weird looking trophy around his neck. The mask was orange and he had a goofy facial expression despite trying to look epic. His skin color was sea green. Everything else, he resembled his brothers. He obviously tried to make himself bigger than he is, and I can't help but chuckle because that's something I would have done, but it's not the picture that's got to me, it's him. I've seen him before but where? In my dreams, perhaps? In some other form of him, like him at a different age? It's on the tip of my tongue where I can taste the dust from the walls. Why can't I remember? You'd think being here with Don, Leo, Raph, and Master Splinter would trigger something that would burst through the walls, shouting "I remember! I remember!" But no-_ooo__**. **_It doesn't. Why have the walls lasted so long? Is there something that I don't want to remember?

I really wanted these questions answered, but I didn't know how so I didn't really bother asking. For a while I'd just hang around the Lair (it's what they call this sewer hole). Mostly I look for clues in Michelangelo's room. It would be very helpful if he owned a diary, but he doesn't. A diary could be the breaking point. Other times I play videogames or watch TV. When I became bored with this, I would sometimes watch them train. Master Splinter said that they train in ninjutsu so they can protect themselves in a world who would see them as specimen for experimentation rather than beings with humanity. It's also why they live in the sewers and never come out except during the night. I thought about all my friends and plans for my future. Man! I would hate to be a mutant turtle. I love the sky, the sunshine, life, and people way too much to be stuck inside this place.

I often noticed that the blue clad turtle Leo often trains by himself. Sometimes he would meditate. One day, I asked him the purpose of meditating.

"It's to put my mind in a state of relaxation and build up my chi," Leo said. "It's also a way with my inner self and on the astral plane."

"Astral plane?"

"Yeah, it's kinda like a dream world or your subconscious."

Connecting with my subconscious might help me find out who I really am. "Can I try meditating?"

"Sure," Leo said.

I sat down in front of him and sat criss-cross applesauce.

"Close your eyes and steady your breathing. Clear your mind and focus on your core," Leo gently instructed. I did what I was told. I steadied my breathing and tried to focus on whatever was blocking me from my subconscious or wherever the memories from my past are stored. I focused as hard as I could, but I just couldn't focus. Instead of going down a straight path to my soul, my mind decided to wander off the path to various funny scenes from TV shows, new skateboarding tricks, new ideas for drawings, and anything else but connecting with my inner self, and besides, I was bored with it. I became twitchy. All I wanted to do was get up and move. It was utterly useless so after ten minutes, I opened my eyes. "Sorry, Leo, but I can't really focus. Thanks anyway."

"At least you tried," Leo said and then went back to meditation. I left to see what's on TV.

* * *

><p><strong>Leo's POV<strong>

_Just like Mikey_, I thought nostalgically. _He can't concentrate due to all the same reasons. _Meditation may have been a failure for this Mikey, but it wasn't for me. About one and a half years ago, I meditated _my _Mikey's presence and encountered a presence that was both familiar and foreign at the same time. I remember "floating" with that presence as we inched closer towards touching until something blew me away from the presence. While Mikey was attempting meditation, I tried to connect to him. I felt that same familiar and foreign feeling radiating from him. What does this mean, and why did I connect with him in the first place? Could he really be my brother? Don said it's impossible to change the genetics of a species after a certain stage in development, but with what I'd just felt and what we learned Bishop is capable of, I'm not so sure.


	48. Raph and Mikey

**For the first time in a long time, I updated relatively quickly. Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

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><p>I was watching TV when Raph stormed in the living room and flipped over the couch and sat next to me. I wasn't too happy. Raph scares me a little bit, and Don was in his lab, and Leo was in the dojo blowing off some steam after arguing with Raph a couple hours ago. I may not be an expert on the emotions of teenage mutant ninja turtles, but I can tell Raph is beyond pissed. I debated on whether I should say something or not: <em>The Dark Knight Rises <em>is on, and I've never seen it, but as I'm watching it, I want to marry the director. On the other hand, these guys took me in when I was dying despite their justified distrust in humans. Helping them out is the least I could do, and besides, I can simply pause it. I do that and face Raph.

"So what's up with you?"

He gave me a death glare that made me nearly pee my pants. "I'll tell you what's up. There's this young woman who was about to get gang raped by some Purple Dragons. I come in and beat the shit out of all of them before they pull down her pants. Then instead of thanking me, she screams, calls me a monster, and runs away, and she _knows _she was about to get raped. Those guys are rapists! They're the monsters! I'm the one who saved her, and yet somehow _I'm _the monster. And this hasn't happened once, no, this happens far too many times to count. Not only that but the minute we're discovered, their meaty legs will all be running to be the first ones to crack open our shells and see what makes us tick! One of those scientists kidnapped my brother! If it weren't for my own damn sense of honor and for April, Casey, and our other human friends, I would have stopped caring about what happens to them a long time ago."

I waited until he was done ranting. I remember Master Splinter explaining why they have to avoid humanity, but I never stopped to think the toll it would take on them. I don't know if I was human before I lost all my memories or not, but I hope that it's the former. I don't think I could survive with the fact that the definition of "monster" is what you look like not who you are. I can see that it makes him so angry all of the time, knowing how much he hates himself because others hate him. I always thought about my origins and toyed with the idea that I might be something else before losing my memories (the evidence is leaning towards that), but I hope that's not true. I don't know why, but I guess I enjoy getting high on life, and I like to think that I always did. You can only truly enjoy life if you can walk in the sun.

But Raph can't, and I feel bad for the guy so I'll help him out. "Don't feel too bad about being a mutant. The X-men were all mutants, and they were all heroes."

"They can all walk out in the sun without judgment, even the weird looking ones," Raph said.

"There was discrimination against them, but they managed to rise above it. They didn't give a shit about what other people thought and still did what was right."

"I'm not saying that I refuse to help the humans, but I wish they would judge me by what I do for them not by what I look like."

"Yeah, well, that won't happen unless if you make them see who you are. I mean, that's what the Civil Rights Movement did, and they were pretty successful."

Raph looked at me weirdly. "You do realize that it's pointless for me to start a protest because I don't contribute anything economically to this country, and even if I decided to protest, I'd risk my family's life."

"Look, I'm not saying you should march down the streets of Washington, you know what? Forget it. In your case, you're better off if you just stop giving a shit about what people think of you, and you'll do better off in life."

"Trust me, I tried. It doesn't work."

"Works for me. On my first day of eleventh grade, I took on my best friend's challenge of drinking a whole can of Coke and belching as loud as I can."

"Let me guess, you did it."

"Hell yeah! Anyway, only the sound of a hundred students and our three babysitters were just a little bit louder. Now to put it in perspective, the size of the cafeteria is a little bit smaller than this living room. My friends applaud me, but a few other kids heard me and were not amused. After school, some random guy asks me if I was the guy belching in the cafeteria. I told him yes. He looked at me disgustingly and called me a freak. You know what I said?"

"What?"

"With a smile, I asked him 'What was your first clue?' Point is, I do a lot of crazy stuff that has turned off some of my peers, and I know they make fun of me for it behind my back, but I don't care. I still do it anyway. Life's about grasping it by the horns, drinking it up, and just simply enjoying it your own way. You know, yo-lo? You can't let other people's judgment serve as a hindrance."

Raph smiled. "Thanks, kid. That helps a little bit."

"_No problemo_, dude. Now what were you and Leo arguing about? I heard you two go after each other's throats. Then you stormed out of the Lair which I'm assuming was to blow off some steam."

"Nothing. It's stupid."

"You sure? Because I can help you get back at him."

He raised an eye ridge. "How?"

"I'm a genius at pranking. Look, Leo's in the dojo right now training. Doe he always talk to himself while doing it?"

"Yeah, like '_Ki-ya!' _whenever he kicks or hits. Sometimes he'll berate himself."

"Does Don have a tank of helium in his lab?"

Raph smirked. "Oh, I see where this is going."

* * *

><p><strong>Twenty minutes later<strong>

"Ready?" I ask. I crouched down by Raph just outside the dojo by a small crack. Through the crack is a nozzle and connected to that nozzle is a tank of helium that Raph stole from Donnie.

"Ready," Raph said as he turned the knob, allowing the helium to flow through the nozzle and into the dojo.

"Now all we do is to wait for the magic to happen," I said. Then we pressed our ears against the wall.

We could distinctly hear Leo, in his normal voice, say, "_Ki-ya! Ki-yah! _Damnit! My kicks aren't hard enough or accurate enough. I need to –what?" His voice began to sound like some sort of chipmunk. "What's wrong with my voice?" Raph and I stifled our giggles. We heard the sound of water. "Hello? Great, washing my throat down doesn't work." Raph and I were nearly splitting. "Donnie! Donnie! I think there's something seriously wrong with me!" That did it; just hearing him panic in his Alvin voice tore us apart. Raph and I were howling with laughter. Unfortunately, Leo heard us. "Raph! Mikey!" He tore the door open. "You better fix this!"

"Now's the time to split!" Raph said between fits of giggles. He ran left, and I ran right. Now Leo was forced to choose who to go after. Unfortunately, he chose me, but fortunately for me, I'm the Cross Country State Championships Winner. I run as if I were running that race a month ago – hardcore adrenalin pumping into my legs – but Leo is a trained ninja and is pretty close to touching me. I can feel his scaly fingertips brush past my shirt.

Salvation comes in the form of Donnie walking out of his lab. "What's going on out here?" he asks confused. I run past him, losing Leo as he stops to angrily explain the situation. "Relax, Leo," I hear Donnie say. "It's just helium making your voice high pitched. It'll wear off. You shouldn't have gone after Mikey. By doing so, you have encouraged him to run, _and he shouldn't be running because it will rip open the stitches!" _He shouts the last part to me. He's right; I can feel the pain, but I don't stop until I'm safe in my room. Once I'm inside, I close the door and lock it. I rest on my bed so not to agitate the stitches further, but as I lie down and rest, something pops in my mind.

Raph said that a scientist kidnapped his brother. Could that scientist be Bishop?

* * *

><p><strong>Just outside the Lair; Raph's POV<strong>

_I think I'm safe. Leo must have gone after Mikey, _I think as I cautiously surface from my underwater hiding spot. Man, I haven't this much fun since that race two and a half years ago. The one that marked the last thing Mikey ever did with us before Bishop took him. I clench my fists in anger. I swear if Bishop so much as hurt Mikey in the slightest way, I'm gonna kill him, but speaking of my missing brother, that kid – his prank, his upbeat attitude, his behavior, even his motto in life – acts exactly like my brother. Ever since Mikey learned the phrase yo-lo and what it means, he used it as an excuse to do stupid things. At first, I thought I was just fooling myself, and that familiar feeling I had towards him was just my desperate attempt to have Mikey back any way possible. That's what I argued with Leo. He was convinced that he is somehow either our brother or closely connected to our brother. I told him he was just thinks that, but then he counter-argued that in meditation, this boy's presence felt like Mikey's presence whom he encountered one and a half years ago. I told him that it wasn't our bro, and he just encountered the wrong guy. Then all hell broke loose, and I ran off, but now, just listening to this kid talk, just watching him pull off a prank, it's just so _Mikey _to be a coincidence. Now, and for the first time in my life that I'm glad, I think Leo is right, and somehow, this kid is Mikey, or at least connected to him.

* * *

><p><strong>The dots are starting to be connected. can they be completely connected?<strong>


	49. Encounter

**I think you guys waited long enough. Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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><p>Master Splinter meditated in the dojo. He could not help but ponder the similarities between the boy in Donatello's care and his own missing son. The names, the personalities, their interests, it was all identical to each other. A trip to the astral plane to see if this boy's soul was the same as his son's was would answer the question once and for all if the two beings are the same, but every time Master Splinter tried, something in the boy would not allow him to. It was like a foreign barrier placed around the boy's soul and subconscious. He did not know why there was a barrier, but paternal instinct told him that there was no need to peer at the boy's soul and that the human Mikey and the turtle Michelangelo are one in the same. Even though this revelation should bring pure joy and relief, Master Splinter wanted to deny it and bury that instinct until he had hardcore evidence proving so. He remembered the pain he felt when his son asked him who his own father was and the pain of seeing this human interact with his own sons very similarly as his missing son would and wishing so badly for his baby that his heart would physically ache. It was worse than grief, but now that the human was given the all clear, he will leave today, swearing that he will not reveal the mutant family's secret. The ache will leave him for good.<p>

But on the other hand…

* * *

><p><strong>Meanwhile…<strong>

"Hey, guys, thanks for giving me a ride home or almost home," Mikey said. They were parked half a block from the alleyway where the Turtles had first found Mikey. Leo and Raph volunteered to give Mikey a ride in the Battle Shell while Don worked on some other projects. He had already said his goodbyes.

"It's better for our sakes if we don't drop you off directly at your apartment, but don't worry. One of us will hide in the shadows and make sure you get home safely while the other will drive away to the garage," Leo explained.

"Yeah, I know. Still, you could have saved me the walking."

"What? A cross country star like you can't handle a little walk?" Raph teased.

"Shut up! Last time I decided to walk home, I got ambushed and stabbed."

"You know the cover story?" Leo asked.

"Yeah, I was ambushed and stabbed by the Turks exactly where you guys found me. I've passed out, and when I wake up, I'm exactly where I am but completely healed. I have no memory of what happened between passing out and waking up," I repeated.

"Good. Now to make it real, I'm going to inject you with a sedative. It'll knock you out for an hour. One of us will carry you to the alleyway and then hide and watch over you. You'll wake up all distorted, and eventually, it'll register in you that you need to get home. As an added bonus, it will distort your memory, making images fuzzy, but it will go away in a few days hopefully long enough to answer questions from the police and lawyers. Because the cover story matches so closely with the actual story, any evidence on you shouldn't give anything away. If you have to answer questions when the drug has worn out, just remember what you remembered when your mind was fuzzy and ad lib a little. Hopefully, the trial will focus more so on your attempted murder than your kidnapping," Leo explained, repeating everything what Don had told him.

Mikey nodded. "Ok. Gonna miss you guys. When this blows over, mind if I visit?"

Raph rubbed his head. "Make sure you call first."

"How? I don't have your contact info," Mikey asked.

"When this blows over, we'll find you and let you know. We'll also introduce you to some of our other friends," Leo said.

"You have more?"

"About three to be exact, but two of them are closer to us," Raph said.

Leo held up the syringe. "Are you ready?"

Mikey rolled up his sleeve. "Yeah."

"Ok then." Leo injected Mikey exactly where Don told him to. At first Mikey felt fine, but soon the world span around along with his mind and his eyelids weighed a ton. He passed out, but Raph caught him before he fell on the ground. Leo got dressed in a trench coat and put on a fedora hat.

"You ready, Fearless?" Raph asked as he cradled Mikey's upper body to him.

"Yeah," Leo picked up Mikey and carried him bridal style. "Let's get him home."

"Sure am gonna miss the kid. I like havin' him around," Raph said.

"I did, too, until he put helium in the dojo while I was training." Leo cracked a smile.

Raph laughed. "Yeah, that was awesome."

Leo rolled his eyes and then stepped out of the Battle Shell. Because of the cover story, Raph had to remain inside. As Leo walked to the alleyway where he and his brothers first found Mikey, the gleam from the moonlight off a shiny metal object on a nearby rooftop caught Leo's eye, but it took less than a second for him to realize that the moonlight was reflecting off a sniper trained right at him. Using his ninja agility, Leo jumped out of the way as soon as the bullet fired. He quickly checked over Mikey – still unconscious – for any signs of injury. Luckily there was none, but Leo didn't really have much time to do a thorough search as more bullets rained down upon. Raph saw what was going on and threw the cover story to the wind as he got out his sais and hopped up the fire escape to take down the snipers. With their attention focused on Leo, it was fairly easy to knock them out, but when Raph saw their uniforms, a cold realization crawled up his spine.

"Leo!" he shouted. "They're Bishop's men!"

With the bullets gone, Leo shifted Mikey to one arm, leaving his right arm free to unsheathe a katana, training his ears for any sound that could give Bishop's presence away, but all he heard the clinging of metal as Raph climbed down the fire escape. Raph then joined Leo's side.

"They're not the same soldiers that took Mikey. They're just regular humans," Raph said.

"Be on guard anyway," Leo ordered.

"What do you think Bishop wants?"

"I don't know. My only guess is whatever he wanted Mikey two and a half years ago."

"I'm gonna beat the shit out of Bishop for taking Mikey!" Raph growled out.

"Don't beat him too hard. We need to interrogate him in order to rescue Mikey."

"Fine. I'll kill him afterwards."

Just then, Bishop emerged from the shadows like the Prince of Darkness entering a room. "Hello, turtles. It's been a long time." Leo and Raph bared their teeth and crouched lower, preparing for battle. Leo gripped harder on Mikey. There was no tome to get him to safety. Bishop then took notice of the human in Leo's arms. "It seems you have found my missing experiment."

That came as a surprise to Leo and Raph. Mikey said he had a family. Was he lying? However, they didn't have time to ponder this as Bishop raised a shotgun. "Now the boy, please."

"Never," Raph growled. He charged after Bishop.

Leo saw Bishop about to pull the trigger. "Raph, watch out!"

_BANG!_

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><p><strong>Did Raph survive? Only I know!<strong>


	50. Deja Vu

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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><p>Luckily, Leo's warning didn't come too late as Raph was able to dodge but only barely. The bullet grazed his scaly skin and shot the brick building behind Leo, Mikey, and Raph. Raph, not even flinching at the sound of gunfire or the touch of a speeding bullet, remained on his course as he charged at Bishop. With his sais, Raph caught Bishop's arms. Raph's intention was to break them, making it easier to capture Bishop, but instead, Bishop kicked Raph square in the gut, freeing himself and almost toppling Raph. Raph recovered and charged again, but Bishop dodged him as soon as Raph's sais were within an inch form Bishop's flesh. Raph stumbled forward but caught his balance before he fell. He growled in frustration. Bishop smiled.<p>

Roaring to muster all his strength, Raph threw his sais at Bishop. Raph's aim was accurate, but his main goal was to distract Bishop as he pummeled him to the ground. Bishop dodged the sais, and Raph, predicting where Bishop will move, grabbed his stomach as if he was giving Bishop a bear hug and pushed him to the ground, pinning him there. Raph raised a fist in from of Bishop's face threateningly. "Where's my brother?" he growled out. Bishop did not say a word. Instead he grabbed Raph's raised arm and pushed Raph off him. Now Bishop at Raph pinned down.

"Hey!" Raph shouted in indignation.

Bishop did not respond as he grabbed Raph's mask and raised Raph's head against his will. Then Bishop shoved Raph's head hard against the concrete, knocking Raph out cold. Leo could only watch in horror as he saw his brother go down. Now he had no choice but to put Mikey down and fight Bishop if he was ever going to protect the boy and get his brother medical attention. Leo gently placed Mikey down, leaning him against the Battle Shell as Bishop got up and started walking towards Leo. Leo moved away from Mikey, unsheathed his katanas, and got into a defensive position.

But Bishop stopped halfway. "My fight with Raphael has been very fun," he said in that cool but sinister voice, "but unfortunately, I do not have time to fight you." Bishop took out something in his pocket and threw it on the ground before Leo had any time to react. Purple smoke immediately filled the area, clouding Leo's vision. Leo put all his focus onto his ears to seek out Bishop, but that man was stealthier than any ninja Leo had ever come across, but then he heard the sound of a small truck being driven away. Leo panicked. Drawing upon his memory, Leo found the Battle Shell and used his sense of touch to find Mikey, but after scaling the whole right side, he couldn't find him, meaning only one thing.

Bishop took Mikey.

When the smoked cleared five minutes later, Leo's realization was confirmed.

* * *

><p><strong>Meanwhile…<strong>

Don sat in his lab, listening to the sound of the DNA synthesizer analyzing his brother's DNA and the human Mikey's DNA in any hopes of finding a connection between the two – hardcore proofs that the human Mikey is Don's missing brother. When Don took Mikey's blood a month ago, he lied to Mikey that he needed his blood for testing. Instead, he wanted his DNA for confirmation. Don knew that hox genes determine body position and placement in the embryonic stage and in the pupae stage, and rDNA is DNA that's made by taking DNA from multiple sources and turning it into a unique segment of DNA. Perhaps, Bishop found a way to transform species into other species using hox genes and rDNA. If that's the case, then the only way to find proof that the two Mikeys are the same person is to find evidence of turned off mutant turtle DNA floating the human's blood. Don knew that the turtle DNA wouldn't simply disintegrate. That would have resulted in death. Rather, the turtle DNA would have to be inactive as hox genes turned on the rDNA. That was Don's hypothesis after studying Bishop's documents (although it only mentioned the role of hox genes and rDNA and information about the mutation of Don's, his brothers', Master Splinter's, and Leatherhead's DNA), but it was good enough of a hypothesis. Unfortunately, the whole process would take a long time.

There really was no use to stay in his lab. It's not like the whole process was going to be done at any minute. He lied about working on other projects while Mikey went home. He said his goodbyes to the boy and told Leo what to do with the drug before they left. He guessed he just didn't want Mikey to go home yet. Everything about him – his fear of needles, his eating habits, his love of pranks and videogames, his name, even his own damn voice – was just like his own brother! He might as well be his brother! This DNA synthesizer was the only thing that will tell Don for sure that Mikey is truly his brother, and if that day comes, he will track down Mikey, tell him the news, bring him home (whether he liked it or not), and do everything he could to recover Mikey's memories. Don guessed that he missed his brother so much that he didn't want this seemingly human version of him to go. Seeing it would be too painful like how painful it was hearing the news that his baby bro had been kidnapped. It disgusted him to know that he was so willing to replace his baby bro, but it's just that it's been almost three years since he'd seen his little bro that Don was just so desperate for anything that seemingly resembled his brother to fill that ache, especially with Christmas coming up.

The DNA synthesizer beeped meaning that it was done analyzing the DNA samples. _That was quick, _Don thought suprised. He got up from his chair. As he walked to the machine, he felt butterflies fly in his stomach. This was the moment of truth – whether he had found his baby bro or Mikey was lost forever. Don was about to pick up the paper the DNA synthesizer had just printed. He felt like a father who is just about to learn the results of a paternity test, but just when Don was about to read the first word,…

His Shell Cell rang.

Seeing that it was Leo calling, Don reluctantly answered his Shell Cell. "Did it go alright?"

"No, Bishop and his men showed up. Bishop knocked Raph out cold, blinded me, and took Mikey!"

Alarmed, Don quickly asked, "Are you still at the alleyway?"

"Yeah. Bishop and his men are gone…along with Mikey."

"Stay where you are. I'll meet you there." They both hung up. Don took a glance at the paper he held. He sighed. It would have to wait. Right now he had a friend to save.

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><p><strong>I may be evil, but I'm not that evil.<strong>


	51. Search and Rescue

**Next Chapter. Disclaimer: you know the drill**

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><p>Donatello grabbed his duffel bag and filled it his laptop, an USB cable, night vision goggles, pictures and documents April took from Bishop's old lab, some medical supplies, a few tools, and his pigeon puppet. After zipping it up and flinging it over his shoulder, he grabbed his Shell Cell and headed to Raph's room to grab his motorcycle helmet and keys. Since Leo and Raph had the Battle Shell, Don would have to take the Shell Cell. As Don headed for the garage, Master Splinter stopped him from outside his room.<p>

"My son, where are you going?"

Don stopped in his tracks. "To the alleyway. Bishop and his men ambushed Leo, Mikey and Raph, kidnapping Mikey and knocking Raph out cold."

"I see. Then go with care, my son."

Don bowed, "_Arigato, _Master Splinter."

Just as Don was about to run off, Master Splinter said, "And Donatello?"

"Yes?" Don asked, confused.

"Make sure you will not let another family suffer our pain, and see if you can heal ours."

Donatello knew exactly what his father meant. "I will." Master Splinter returned to his room, and Don took that as his cue to leave. He ran to the elevator and pressed the button. As soon as the door opened, Don got in. He felt impatient as it slowly climbed its way up to the streets. As soon as the doors opened, Don ran out and made a beeline for Raph's Shell Cycle. He revved up the engine, pressed a button to open the garage door, and road the hell outta there. He knew exactly how to get to the alleyway.

It didn't take long, but as soon as he spotted the Battle Shell, he immediately parked the Shell Cycle and ran to Raph. As worried as he was about Mikey, his mind was focused on Raph. Pulling out a medical flashlight from his medical bag, Don checked Raph for any bruises and cuts. Finding none, he checked Raph's head. Don didn't see any bleeding, but he did feel a medium sized bump on the back of Raph's head. Don opened Raph's left eye and shined the flashlight on it to see if his pupils will retract. They didn't, meaning Raph is definitely unconscious.

Leo, hovering over Donnie's shoulder, asked, "What do you think, Donnie?"

"Well, he's definitely unconscious. There's no bleeding, but there's a bump on the back of his head. I'm worried that he might have a concussion. I can't tell right now. When he wakes up, I'll quiz Raph on any symptoms."

Sure enough Raph slowly woke up. When he began to hoist himself up, Don helped him. "Easy, bro. You were knocked out cold. Do you remember anything?"

Raph rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, Leo was about to lay Mikey in the alleyway. Then he was ambushed so I came to help him. Bishop came, and we fought. That's the last that I remem–oh shit! Where's Mikey? Is he ok?"

"Easy, Raph," Don said. "How do you feel? Do you have a headache, blurry, or double vision? Do you feel lethargic or sensitive to light?"

"Fine and no, no, no, no, and no. Now will you tell me what happened to Mikey?" Raph demanded.

"He was captured by Bishop," Leo explained. "I tried to protect him, but Bishop blinded me with a smoke grenade and took Mikey."

"Dammit!" Raph cursed. He tried to get up. Don helped him.

"Relax, brainiac. I'm fine," Raph said.

"You were just knocked out and could be suffering from a concussion which includes symptoms like lack of motor coordination, difficult balancing, and dizziness."

"I'm fine. I can stand alright. See?" Raph said as he stood perfectly still without anyone's help.

Don nodded. "Well, seeing you don't suffer from memory loss, lethargy, headaches, blurred or doubled vision, sensitivity to light, dizziness, and motor problems, I say you're fine."

"Now that Raph's okay," Leo said, "we need to focus our efforts on Mikey."

"I think I know where he is," Don said. "Remember when April and Casey went to Bishop's old lab and saw people fixing and restoring it? They also stole some interesting files from there. You know, files about Project Morph and stuff about our DNA. I think that's where they are."

"Do you know for sure?" Leo asked.

"No, but it's worth a shot."

"Then we start looking there," Leo ordered. "Perhaps, we can find a lead on our missing brother in addition to finding our friend."

"Then let's go," Raph declared.

While Raph and Leo hopped in, Don put the Shell Cell in the Battle Shell. As soon as he was finished, he buckled up, and Leo drove to Bishop's old lab, remembering the directions from that time he and his brothers had to go there to rescue their father. That time, they had their little brother. This time they don't, but perhaps they will come home with a boy and a turtle…or maybe a turtle in a human's body.

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><p><strong>Meanwhile in Bishop's helicopter…<strong>

Bishop watched his test subject, strapped on a bed, breathe as Baxter Stockman was running a quick scan to determine the cause for unconsciousness. He couldn't help but smile as the ex-mutant turtle lied unconscious in _his _grasp. It took almost a year to find the boy. Bishop had a hunch that he was heading for New York City, but he didn't know for sure, and even if he did, he wouldn't have known Michelangelo's current location, but a news report of his test subject going missing after a night out with friends tipped Bishop off, and here is the boy now.

"Scans reveal a drug in the test subject's blood stream similar to the one we use to block out past memories. However, it acts as a sedative and distorts and blurs recent memories for a few days," Stockman revealed.

"Normally, a drug like that would be useful to me in keeping Michelangelo at bay. However, I need him fully aware and drug free. Give him an antidote, but make sure it's not enough to destroy the barrier in his subconscious."

"Yes sir," Stockman said. He turned around and quickly prepared the antidote. When it was ready, he administered it through a vein on Michelangelo's left arm near his shoulder. Soon Michelangelo began to stir and slowly opened his eyes. Instead of seeing the night sky and the face of the man on the moon, he saw the ceiling of a helicopter and the faces of Bishop and Stockman. Mikey panicked. _This is real! _he thought, remembering times where he thought he was recaptured by Bishop and panicked only to realize he was somewhere else safe and sound.

"Hello, Michelangelo. Had a nice trip?" Bishop said, his voice smooth as a paved road and as cold as black ice.

"_You!" _ Mikey spitted out.

Bishop chuckled. "Yes me. Have you forgotten that I, not your new parents or your friends, own you?"

"You don't own me!" Mikey angrily said.

"Yes, I do, and I'm taking you back. I hope you said goodbye to those mutants before they drugged you because that was the last time you will ever see them."

"No," Mikey whispered.

"Oh and the same goes for your parents."

Mikey gave Bishop the death glare. He hoped that somehow lasers will shoot from his eyes like it does for Superman and melt Bishop's face off and Stockman's metal body.

A soldier approached Bishop. "Sir, we the pilot says we will be landing in a few seconds."

"Excellent," said Bishop.

Stockman grinned sadistically at Michelangelo while Michelangelo only hoped that Leo and Raph were going to save him before Bishop further experiments on him.


	52. Rampage

**Sorry that it's been awhile so I made this chapter pretty long. Hey guys, my beta reader NITROPSYCHO has been doing an awesome job beta reading this story. I've been thanking her/him by coauthoring her stories Multiverse Mixup and it's sequel Multiverse Mixup 2: Reality Shell Shocked so guys, if you are still huge fans of this please thank my beta reader by reading those two stories and dropping in some reviews. He/she would very much appreciate it especially for Multiverse Mixup 2: Reality Shell Shocked. Now for the disclaimer...I own nothing**

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><p>The car ride was long and silent. The air felt like a one ton weight hanging from a string. As much as the Turtles desired to rescue their friend and return him to his family, a realization dawned on them that outweighed their desire – the prospect of possibly finding their missing brother. Now that Bishop reared his ugly head, they had a greater of chance of either finding Mikey or finding out where he is. They were so excited but so tensed that none of them considered the possibility that they could be seeking a body and not a living, breathing turtle.<p>

"We're here," Leo stated.

"Great! Now let's go kick some shell." Raph was already of his seat, ready and roaring to go.

"Hold on, Raph," Don said, using his arm to block Raph from running out. "We don't even know where Mikey is in there, assuming he is. If I can get inside and hack into their security systems, we can pinpoint his location."

"Why can't ya do it from here?" Raph snapped.

"Bishop's security system is just too advanced to do it from my laptop. I need to get access to his."

"Don, do you know where Bishop's computer is and how to get to it?" Leo asked.

"Kind of," Don said. "Remember when we used Bishop's subway to get to his lab? Well, the automatic recall system in the subway was connected to a homing beacon that is linked to a computer in the lab, and I bet that's where their security mainframe is. I did manage to get a good look at where the signal is in the lab on our way there, but I can only tell you the general direction."

"Then we'll have to work with that," Leo said. "Ok here's the plan. We'll sneak in from where we entered last time. Don, you'll lead us to where you think the computer is and then we'll search from there. After hacking into the security system, find Mikey, and then we'll go from there. Got that?"

"Yes," Don and Raph said in unison.

"Okay then. Let's go find our friend."

_Fifteen Minutes Later…_

Raph and Leo waited patiently as Don tried to hotwire the military grade garage door open. Too bad we don't have Leatherhead. He could have easily rammed it open, Don thought after pulling at another wire. This better be the one. He cut it and touched one flayed end with a flayed end of another cut wire. Don saw sparks but nothing was happening. "Come on," he muttered to himself, scraping the two ends together.

As Don was desperately trying to get the door to open, Raph turned to Leo and said, "This kind of reminds me of the last time we've been here on a rescue mission but with less excitement. It's a lot more boring this way."

"Yeah, well, it's better this way."

Raph was about to say something when Don shouted, "Got it!" Sure enough, the garage door slowly began to open.

"Ok, be careful going in. We don't know what's facing us on the other side. Use stealth," Leo commanded.

As soon as the door was high enough for them to get under, Don, Leo, and Raph sneaked in. "This way," Don whispered and followed the corridor down. The two older brothers followed the younger. Of course, it was the only direction they could go at the moment. Don knew it was somewhere on the left side of the building nearby the tracks. When he came to a T-intersection, he turned left, and sure enough, they ran into trouble as the three brothers were met with five guards. Immediately, they started shooting. Leo and Raph used the metal of their weapons to deflect the lasers while Don snuck up from behind them and knocked them out cold. However, their heavy armor was proving quite difficult for Don so he resorted to disarming them and using their guns against them. As Raph kept one guard busy, Don used his bo-staff to trip him. He easily wrestled the gun from him and shot at another guard who was about to kill Leo. The blast was powerful, knocking him out cold but did not kill him thanks to their laser proof armor.

"Thanks, bro," Leo said.

"Don't mention it."

"Guys, we need to finish this," Leo commanded.

Then Raph had a bright idea. He noticed that the guards had a weak point – the neck. The battle helmets were not connected to their uniforms, exposing bare flesh. Raph jammed his sais up a guard's gun, destroying it. He took his Sais out and tossed the destroyed gun. He used his right arm to wrap around the man's neck into a chokehold. He used his other arm to knock off the helmet, revealing a young man in his thirties, and press his Sai against his neck. "Alright!" Raph shouted, immediately getting the other three guards' attention. "If ya want ya buddy to live, then drop ya weapons and let us through."

Surprisingly, they followed Raph's orders. To his brothers he said, "Come on guys, let's go." The three brothers slowly backed away, the hostage in tow until they were far enough to run (or in Raph's case, walk fast). When they were in the clear, Raph shoved his hostage against a wall and held his Sai against his jugular vein. "Unless ya want that vein to spill blood all over your fancy suit, yer gonna answer some questions. Got that?"

The man just glared at Raph. Raph glared back. He pressed his Sai closer to the man's flesh. "Number one: is Bishop here with a teenage boy?" The man did not say a word. Raph growled. "I said is Bishop here with a teenage boy?" The man still did not say a work so Raph grabbed a fistful of hair, pulled the man's head, and rammed it in the wall. The man screamed, but Raph wasn't finished with him yet. He sliced part of his neck open, carefully avoiding the vital spots but still making the cut deep enough for stitches. "Now will you tell me?"

"Bishop's here with his experiment, or that teenager," he said. His eyes were glazed over, and he was in danger of slipping into unconsciousness.

"Where's the boy?"

"Lab 204."

"Where's that?"

"It's up–" Before the man could finish, he slipped into unconsciousness while still bleeding. Raph let go of him.

"Now we don't have to waste time looking for the security system," Raph said nonchalantly.

"That's…great," Don said. He knew Raph can be aggressive, but that seemed a little too much. It always unnerved him to see his brothers threaten death for information.

"Let's go," Leo said, unfazed by what Raph did. After all, he did something similar once too.

Don and Raph followed Leo as he searched for a possible way up. Normally, rooms with numbers in the two hundreds are located in the second floor so that's where the three brothers decided to try. Fortunately, there was an elevator nearby. Don pressed the up arrow and a minute later, the doors parted to reveal a very large elevator. The three brothers got in and Don pressed the 2 button. "Listen up, now that we've made our presence known, security will be hyped up. When the doors open, who knows what we'll be facing so be careful," Leo lectured.

Raph balanced one of his Sais on its tip with his middle finger. "Ya got it, fearless."

And sure enough, as soon as the elevator doors open, they were greeted with ten guards. Leo and Raph got in front, weapons drawn, and the guards immediately began shooting. Leo and Raph deflected the lasers with their blades, aiming them at different angles so the lasers will bounce back and hit the guards. They managed to destroy three guns and knock out two guards this way. From behind Leo and Raph, Don jumped, Bo in hand, and landed on the one the guard's head. He knocked over the helmet and used his bo-staff to knock him out cold. He jumped off of him and used his bo-staff to knock off their helmets, exposing vulnerable heads. Don then used his bo-staff to knock them out cold. Between his strategy and Leo and Raph's strategy, they managed to make it out of the elevator alive and unhurt.

The three brothers ran as they read the door numbers. It looked like their hypothesis was correct. Based on the numbers, they were on the opposite side of where Mikey was being held.

"289, 288, 287," Don counted.

There was a sound of multiple footsteps running behind them. Leo turned around to see a small army of guards chasing after them. "Guys! We got company!" As soon as Leo shouted in warning, lasers were fire. Leo unsheathed his swords and used them to deflect the lasers. Raph did the same thing with his Sais while Don focused on looking for the lab.

"279, 278, 277," Don counted. Then the hall ended in another T-intersection. He stopped and so did Leo and Raph. Don looked both ways to see which way the numbers decreased.

Leo and Raph were busy using their previous strategy to keep their shells and Don's shell intact. However, they could only hold it for so long. "Which way, Donnie?!" Leo shouted over the sound of firearms.

"Uh," Don looked to the right and noticed the numbers were increasing so that meant, "Left!"

"Then move it!" Raph yelled.

Don did what Raph commanded, and Leo and Raph followed suit. Don mentally sighed in relief as he saw the numbers decrease. "259, 258, 257, 256, 255."

Guards rushed out and blocked their way. The brothers charged at them with Leo and Raph in the lead, weapons up. As the distance between the guns and their weapons decreased, the harder the lasers made contact with the guards after being deflected, knocking them out of the way. As the two older brothers cleared a path, Don used his kicks and bo-staff to knock out a few stragglers until none were conscious or at least disarmed.

"249, 248, 247, 246, 245, 244, 243, 242, 241, 240."

Twenty guards charged at them, and the three brothers easily defeated them.

"234, 233, 232, 231, 230."

They were met with a four way intersection. "Great. Now which way?" Raph asked, frustrated. To make matters worse, guards poured from all four sides, cornering them in the middle. "Great," Raph muttered.

"Don, which way?" Leo yelled.

"I don't know yet. I need a closer look."

"Raph, you take on the guards on the right and see where the numbers go. Don, take the one straight ahead, and I'll take the left."

"Got it!" both brothers said.

Leo charged at the guards at the left, swords blocking his face, deflecting the lasers and hitting the guards as if they threw a boomerang and failed at catching it. Leo manipulated his swords to so that the lasers will deflect and destroy the guns. By disarming the soldiers, it'll be easier to defeat them. When Leo disarmed them, he used his swords to take off their helmets and then kicked or punched them out cold. Once he cleared a path, he noticed that the room started with 209 and decreased from there. This has to be it, Leo thought.

Raph used a different strategy defeating the guards. He jumped on one guard's shoulder and stabbed the gun with both his Sais. He took them out and knocked over the guard's helmet and through it and the gun at a couple of guards who were about to shoot him. Using the back of his hand, Raph hit the back of the man's neck, knocking him out. He jumped off and onto the next guy, but this time, he stole his gun and shot at the other guards, aiming for their chests and knocking them out. When the threat was gone, Raph destroyed the gun and all the other guns with his Sais. He then checked the room numbers, noticing that the first door started with 219 and decreases from there. I wonder if it goes to 204, Raph thought.

Don didn't have the advantage of a metal blade to protect him from the lasers so he had to destroy them before they destroyed him. He took out some shuriken and aimed it certain parts of the guns, short circuiting them. Then Don used his bo-staff's advantage, knocking the helmets off, exposing the heads. He would then use his bo-staff or his legs to knock them out, whatever worked best at the moment. When the guards no longer posed a threat, Don checked to see where the numbers lead to. He noticed that the first door started at 229 and went down from there. Could this be the way? Don thought.

"Guys, this way starts at 209 and goes down from there," Leo said.

"Mine starts at 229 and decreases," Don said.

"219 to whatever the hell is below that," Raph said.

"Looks like it's this way," Leo said, gesturing to the left hallway.

Spinning his Sai and then catching it, Raph said, "Let's go."

With Raph in the lead, Leo and don followed him counting down the numbers like counting off till liftoff. "209, 208," Don counted.

"207, 206, 205," Leo counted.

"204," Raph said, and with caution, the three brothers opened the door.

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><p><strong>But I'm not sorry enough to not end in a cliffhanger<strong>


	53. Breaking Out

**As suggested by an anonymous reviewer, I decided to update as a little Christmas gift. As an added bonus, it's long has a lot of good stuff in it. Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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><p>Weapons ready, the three brothers opened the door cautiously, but as soon as the door was wide open, Raph immediately barged in and attacked the closest thing his mind registered as a threat…Bishop. Bishop immediately began to defend himself, dodging Raph's Sais and whatever else he threw at him. Normally Bishop would fight back, but he was in a room with expensive and hard-to-get equipment so he didn't want anything breaking. Instead, he opted to waste Raphael's energy and then knock him out. However, Raphael is a peculiar case; since every time Raphael missed, he seemed to gain more energy. Bishop attributed that to the turtle's rage, but Bishop knew that despite the turtle's boost, he will eventually succumb to tiredness.<p>

With caution now thrown to the wind (much to Leo's annoyance), Don and Leo charged. Leo took on Stockman while Donatello went to Mikey. "Hey Don. Am I glad to see you and your bros!"

At first Don was confused, he had given Mikey a drug a few hours ago that should have taken effect by now. The boy shouldn't really recognize him. Mikey saw Don's confusion and said, "Stockman gave me an antidote so when this blows over, we're going to have to go to Plan B."

Don freed Mikey from his straps and helped him up, "If I can think of a plan B." Don grabbed the boy's hand. "Come on. Let's get out of here." Don pulled Mikey to the exit.

From the corner of his eye, Leo saw Don pull Mikey out of the room. "Raph!" he yelled. "Let's get out of here!"

As usual, Raph followed his own agenda. "Not just yet!" Raph immediately caught Bishop off guard and shoved him up the wall. He held his Sai dangerously close to his neck. Despite being in grave danger, Bishop was unfazed. "Where's our brother?!"

For the first time, Leo was not angry at Raph for disobeying orders. He, too, copied Raph. Using one sword, he pinned Stockman's robotic arm to the wall and with the other, dangerously brought it close to the only living thing in Stockman. "Unless you want a new robotic form again, I suggest you tell us where our youngest brother is," Leo snarled.

"Go ahead and kill me. I'd much prefer to rest in peace rather than suffer in this form under Bishop," Stockman retorted.

Leo growled. This was not going to be easy so he pierced the metal where Stockman's brain was underneath but not so deep that his sword met contact with the robot's brain. Stockman, seeing what Leo was doing, actually smiled.

Donatello, seeing what was going on, decided to do the selfish thing and stay with his bros rather than get the boy to safety. He shut the door and locked it so the guards won't get in, and the two captives won't escape. Just in case, Stockman and Bishop got lose, Don positioned his body in front of the boy and held out his bo-staff, ready for a fight at a moment's notice.

"TELL ME WHERE HE IS!" Raph screamed in such rage that Leo and Don never knew possible. Mikey even shook a little.

Bishop smirked. "Please, you cannot kill me. I have survived everything from slavery to fighting in the Civil War to alien abduction and countless battles against extraterrestrial threats. Nothing can kill me, especially not your Sai."

"Then I'll make it hurt," Raph growled, and with his other Sai, he swiped at Bishop's chest and stomach. Bishop let out a feral scream. Blood began staining his white shirt. Leo and Don were in shock. This was absolutely nothing compared to just twenty minutes ago when Raph threatened one of Bishop's men. Never had they witnessed such brutality coming from their brother. Sure they had seen him take out his anger on unlucky Purple Dragons and Foot Clan ninjas, but he only used his Sais to disarm and defeat never to draw blood, but as shocked as they were, they could not blame Raph for it. Leo was even hoping that some good would come out of it.

"NOW WILL YOU TALK?" Raph yelled.

"Never," Bishop painfully said, losing that emotionless and cold tone.

This time Raph just stabbed Bishop in the stomach. Bishop leaned forward in pain and fell to his knees. Raph let him, and when his knees hit the ground, Raph grabbed a fistful of hair, jerked his head back, and pressed his clean Sai against his throat. "How about now?" Raph growled. The sound was less like a wolf or lion growling but more like the growl of a demon.

"Oh please," Stockman said, sounding rather annoyed about what's happening rather than terrified at seeing his partner getting tortured. "There's no need to torture the man."

All eyes turned to Stockman. Leo narrowed his. "Why? What do you know?"

"I honestly can't believe you all haven't figured it out by now, especially Donatello. Ha! You may be the smart one, but even you can be an idiot," Stockman said, his holographic face staring at Don in contemptuous annoyance. Don glared back.

"Figure out what?" he said.

"Stockman! No!" Bishop warned. Raph just drove his knee him in the stomach.

"That your brother is the same person who's standing right behind you," Stockman revealed.

With the exception of Bishop's labored breathing, everything was dead silent. A pin could drop, and everyone could hear it.

"Wh-what?" Don stammered.

Stockman rolled his holographic eyebrows. "Your brother and the boy you're trying to rescue are the same person. We turned Michelangelo human six months after capturing him. It had the nasty side effect of temporary memory loss which we corrected by drugging him to prevent him from regaining his memories. Ha! We added enough drugs in his system that even after a year and four months without getting it, he has yet to remember."

It felt as of everything Michelangelo felt went down the drain. He felt empty not the depressingly empty but shockingly empty. Everything that he figured about himself, all the good times he had since escaping Bishop and finding a family was shocked out of existence. He finally learned the truth, and yet he did not feel full. It was too hard to comprehend, but at the same time, it explained everything. And yet, despite hearing the stone cold truth from the perpetrator's assistant, it could not break the barrier in his mind. Finally, Mikey spoke up.

"So all this time, I was with my original family?"

"Yes. Seriously, you felt some kind of familiarity to them? All this time living with them temporarily and you never questioned how their missing brother eerily shared many qualities with you? Wow, you really are clueless. Of course, Bishop did theorize that your cluelessness and naivety in your turtle life carried on to your human life, helping the drug strengthen the barrier holding your memories."

Raph turned his attention to Bishop. "Is Stockman correct? Is the kid really our brother?"

"Yes," Bishop said painfully.

Raph turned his attention back to his newly found youngest brother. "Mikey," he whispered in shock. "It-it's you. It's really you."

Mikey just looked at Raph blankly. He felt nothing. No recognition of brotherhood. No feelings of fraternal love. No memories rushing to the surface. No nothing. He just didn't know what to think or what to feel. He could feel Don's and Leo's shocked but joyful faces on him. He knew they just wanted to embrace him and will do so as soon as possible, but he could not return the same affections. Somewhere in the distance, he heard Bishop's scream and a thud. It only registered to him that Bishop must have lost consciousness from blood loss and shock, but he won't die. Somewhere in that same distance he heard the sound of metal piercing metal and Leo shouting "Let's go home!" He didn't know if they killed Stockman or further incapacitate him, but he didn't care as long as he stayed the hell away from him.

He felt Don lovingly put his arm around him and lead him out the door and to the Battle Shell while Raph and Leo guarded them from in front and behind. He didn't even pay attention to where they had to go. He ran the whole time, and all he could remember was being on an elevator. Boarding the Battle Shell was fuzzy, too. He wasn't sure if Don had to push him on or just wanted to rest his hand on his back. Perhaps Don was trying to ground himself, too. If only there was something to ground Mikey.

Somewhere he could hear the turtles (no his brothers) excitedly babble on about him. His nerve endings barely registered their touch. He just didn't know what to think. It should have been so damn obvious. Didn't he used to dream of a mutant turtle named Mikey that acted and looked like a toddler? Didn't he dream about a purple banded and an orange banded creature when he was in the hospital? Didn't he flashbacked to a mutant rat that looked exactly like Master Splinter? Shouldn't that have told him the obvious? But why didn't it register? And why could he still not remember? And why can't Don and Raph stop hugging him? Were they trying to suffocate him to death?

In what seemed like forever and yet felt like no time has passed, they were at the old Water Treatment Plant. He felt cold scaly hands gently take his arm and lead him out of the Battle Shell and into the Lair. They didn't hover over him. Maybe they realized that he needed a little space.

"We're home!" Raph shouted excitedly.

Master Splinter hobbled over. "I see you have returned with the boy safe and sound. I'm glad." Master Splinter's tone betrayed his sentiments. Although he truly was glad for the boy's safe return, he was hoping for his own son's return and was disappointed to not see his orange clad turtle.

"Master Splinter," Leo began, "we have great news!"

"What is it, my son?"

"We found Mikey!" Raph answered for Leo.

Master Splinter looked at the boy. "I see."

Leo, seeing his confusion, explained, "When we found this kid, Raph…threatened Bishop to tell us where our brother is. Stockman revealed that our brother and this kid are one in the same. Bishop transformed Mikey into a human."

Master Splinter's eyes went wide. "Are-are you sure, my son?"

Then a light bulb went off in Don's head. "Wait! I can confirm it. When Mikey was in my infirmary, I took some blood from Mikey. He reminded me too much of my brother, and I remember reading those documents April sent us so hypothesized that he might our brother-turned-human. I put his blood in my DNA synthesizer to test for our brother's inactive mutant turtle DNA a month ago. I just got the results. They're in my lab."

"Go get them, my son."

Don ran to his lab and snatched the paper. He came back and read the results. "It's a match. You are our brother," Don said.

Master Splinter fell to his knees, crying tears of joy. "All these years, and…I…I thought…My son, you came back to us. You're home." He looked at his human son. "My son, now that you know the truth, do you remember me now?"

Master Splinter and his three eldest sons looked at Mikey expectantly. No one had discussed his amnesia going away since learning the truth. Mikey could only look at them blankly. "No…I don't…I need to be alone." He ran to Michelangelo's room (his room) and immediately locked the door behind him. He tore down shelves of comics, action figures, posters, old drawings, anything to trigger his memory. He rummaged through old drawings and comic sketches and did not experience one single flashback.

_I thought art was the salvation of the soul or some stupid shit like that_ he frustrating thought.

Then somewhere in the mess he created, he found an old book decorated with lots of orange and superheroes and glitter. He opened it up to see several handwritten pages, and it clicked inside of him that this was a journal from his…past life. His hands shook. This held the key to unlock the wall in his subconscious. Mikey immediately opened it.

The first page was an introduction. He read…

Dear Stan,

Do you like that name? I thought Dear Diary or something like that was so unoriginal so I thought you know what? We're named after Renaissance artists so I thought I do the same thing here, but I couldn't think of any Renaissance artists so instead I decided to name you after the greatest artist in the world Stan Lee - the creator of The Fantastic Four, Hulk, Iron man, Spider-Man, Thor, Daredevil, the Avengers, and the X-Men. I swear if he created Superman and Batman in addition to those superheroes, he is officially God. He is the creator of the universe. He is the inspiration for Justice Force. He. Is. Awesome.

So yeah, I shortened it to Stan. Anyway, Don gave this to me as a Christmas present. He said that now I should have something to occupy myself rather than bother him in his lab (not that it will work, but nice try Donny!) I know that's only partially true. The real reason was that I mentioned to Don about creating my own comic series, but I need to practice my creative writing so he gave me this book. I figured starting a diary would be a great way to practice and it could help me cope with everything that's going on.

So yeah that's it! Christmas was awesome as always, but there's nothing really to say so bye.

Love,

Mikey

Mikey continued to read more. He read about meeting April and Casey, their battles with the Foot Clan and the Shredder, the Purple Dragons, the Triceratons, Sh'Okanabo, and many others. He read about their adventures in parallel dimensions, other planets, cyberspace, and 2105, but most of all he read about everyday life – annoying Raph, boring mediation sessions, hanging out with Don in his lab, mocking Leo behind his back as he lectures, and other scenes of daily life. He especially paid attention to his thoughts and feelings – his love for his family, his dreams of being the next Stan Lee, his lack of self-confidence in all things ninja and how he can tell his family feels the same way about him, his wishes for his father to take an active interest in his life rather than just making him work hard in his father's greatest interest (ninjutsu), and his desire to be human despite how much he loves being a turtle, and every time, Mikey read this, chunks and chunks of the wall fell as memories flooded into his conscious. He remembered his childhood, his brothers, his father, and his various human and not so human friends. He remembered the feelings he had felt, his hopes and dreams. He remembered past birthdays and holidays, good days and bad days. He remembered the battles he fought, the tears he cried, and the love he had. He remembered it all, and all he could do was cry softly.

After he finished his tiny waterworks, he wondered what do next. He supposed he should go outside, announce that he got his memories back, and start a lovefest, but honestly, he didn't. For the longest time, Mikey dreamed of getting his memories back, because getting them back meant he would finally know who he was, but in the process he ended up finding out who he already was without the help of his memories. Now that he knows his past, he feels like he doesn't know who he is anymore. Information about himself had been compromised. But that wasn't what made Mikey hesitant to rejoin his old family, it was what the life he made and the friends and family he found as a human that stopped him. He could still feel that he loved his brothers. Somehow, they always remained in a special place in his heart as evident by the friendship he shared with them when he lost his memories. It was everything else. He loved being a human more than being a turtle. Would that change the relationship he had with his brothers? That was one of the reasons they were so close; they only had each other because no one would accept they, but now that was changed. He was accepted by the outside world, and they still weren't.

But Mikey realized that was probably the least of his problems. If his memory is to be trusted, they will still love him no matter what? No, it went deeper than this. When he saw his rat father asked if he remembered him, all Mikey could see was John's face. He loves John as a father and that hasn't changed, but even though he now knows his real dad, he still sees John as his father. In fact, he preferred John over his own. John and Master Splinter were similar in the fact that they both have honor and fight for good, but that was it. While Master Splinter had an air of formality and only really interacted with them during practice, John was much more laid back. He was always there for him and spent a lot of time with Mikey over common interests. Most importantly, John encouraged Mikey to pursue his interests and was proud when he succeeded. That's more than his own father had done, but this preference didn't sicken him. He was not sure if he should be sickened by that. Another reason was that Mikey didn't want to lose a chance to live his human life and accomplish his dreams. He loved his new friends and family, but most of all, he loved the opportunities he was presented with. He was free to run for fun on a team, learn to surf, go to art school, and become a graphic novelist. He was free to travel the world, walk in the sunshine, party with people, and just have fun. He didn't want to lose that, but his most important reason was this: He wasn't insecure.

As a mutant turtle, he never felt like he was good enough for his family. Sure he participated in battles and helped his family win them, but that was it. He never really had a moment to his own where his family could be proud of him of accomplishing something that was totally his thing. His father would rather see him focus on ninjutsu than practicing his art and writing; Leo is on par with master Splinter but a little more tolerant; Raph just sneers at his love for superheroes and everything he fan boys over (which is why he'll never know his dreams). Don was probably the closest to feel something close to support or even pride, but even then he thinks of him as just a goofball and a bit of an idiot. The only thing he had to go by was ninjutsu, and even then his family didn't really believe in him. He could feel it in the way they acted, especially Master Splinter, and if they didn't believe him, why should he? The one time he did do something great was winning the Battle Nexus, and even that was dumb luck. He knew that, so he boasted to convince himself that he did something awesome and to make his family proud of him. It didn't work, and when he got his rematch, well, only Leo seemed really proud of him. Don and Raph were just hoping that he wouldn't boast about it to them, and Master Splinter felt as if he learned an important lesson. Nothing he did ever really pleased his family.

But as a human, it was a whole different story. His parents were proud of who he was and for his accomplishments in what he loves. His mother loves his bright and sunny personality, telling him to embrace his ADHD because that's what makes him who he is. He never recalled Master Splinter telling him to embrace his boundless energy. It always seemed like he was telling him to bottle it up and become more disciplined in life. He'll never forget how awesome he felt when Nora told him "That's my boy" and when John told him how proud he was when Mikey won the state championships in a sport that he loved. And not just his parents, his art teacher praised his art skills and his personality. He thought he was the most individualistic, creative, and artistic person ever. Ms. Darby thought he had an interesting mind. Interesting! No one ever praised his mind before in his turtle life. They thought he was an idiot. Only Don got praise for mind.

He started crying. He just didn't know what to do. He loves his human life, but he can't walk away from his newfound past. At the same time, he just can't imagine himself abandoning his mother and father or his friends, but he also has his original family and friends to think about. Worst of all, he didn't really know who he is anymore. His life is a canyon. On one side was his turtle life and on the other is his human life. They are so vastly different that there's just nothing connecting them. And where was he? He was in the bottom in the river as currents tug at him left and right while trying to drown him in the process, and he's just trying to keep his head afloat.

Mikey needed air before the river completely drowned him. He couldn't face his old family, but he's not ready to go back to his new family. He wished he could talk to Mom and Dad about this, but he promised to keep his old family's life a secret. He couldn't talk to his old family because it'll hurt them to know how he feels. He needs to talk to a third party; someone who understands what he's going through but would still respect his need for secrecy. Someone like…Nestor.

Grabbing the journal, Mikey opened the door slightly ajar and assessed his surroundings. He remembered that Master Splinter and Leo were especially good at detecting the softest of sounds, but luckily it appeared that neither of them was in the living room. Neither was Don, but Raph was punching his punching bag, but with the noise he was making and how focused he was on it, Mikey doubt Raph would hear or even see him. Mikey squeezed out of the door and using ninja stealth, he sneaked down stairs and past Raph. He stealthily made his way to the door and carefully opened it. Luckily Raph didn't hear it creak. Mikey carefully walked outside and close the door. As soon as he was outside, he ran. He didn't care if his brothers and…father were going to be worried when they found out he was missing, he just needed to run.


End file.
